


building hopeful bridges on a troubled sea

by meowrails



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Boys Being Boys, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, MLM Writer, Non-Graphic Abuse, Slow Burn, Small Towns, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 140,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: After an assassination attempt, young Karl Mordo is separated from his family and forced to spend the entire summer in a farm in the middle of Nebraska, USA.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally here, the fic i've been talking about for ages!
> 
> it's still not finished, but i've written enough where i'm confident i can have it mostly done by the time the chapters catch up. i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> updates will be once a week every friday or saturday. not beta'd, all mistakes are my own. read notes below for art and a fanmix i made while writing this.
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!

“We are islands to each other,

building hopeful bridges

on a troubled sea”

_ ENTRE NOUS BY RUSH _

 

Now,  _ this _ assassination attempt at the Mordo Estate had been surprisingly well planned this time.

Krowler Mordo was no stranger to those sorts of situations. All politicians and aristocrats had enemies, but this time he had an entire resistance group trying to start a coup underneath his feet. Much like the coup in France centuries ago, they were now targeting his family to burn down with him. Krowler knew fully well what his actions did to the people but, truth be told, he didn’t care -- Nor did most of the people he worked with.

After a conference with the Romanian press, dozens of other journalists, and ignoring any advisor who told him to go to a therapist to check for any trauma -- which was ridiculous, it had not been the first time someone held a gun to his head, he was fine -- Krowler Mordo decided to have a meeting with his family. With his heirs.

Sara had shown up at the manor’s large dining room table at once, her husband running along beside him. His son-in-law looked the slightest bit shaken, but his daughter at least hid any sort of sign of fear in his face. My god, the man was like a small dog, if he were to be his next in line, he would have to get used to it.

Krowler glanced at both of them and gritted his teeth, “Where is the boy?” 

He didn’t call him by his first name anymore, not since he had realized how much of a brat his grandson could be. He was simply  _ the boy _ . It was how his own father kept him in check, and his grandfather before him. He would now allow any sort of insubordination in this household.

Sara looked at his husband as she spoke in their mother tongue. “He is... in his room. Practicing piano, I believe.”

Ah, he’d forgotten the boy had lessons every day. Krowler was having none of it; for once, piano could wait. “I asked someone to get him, why is he not here?”

Nikolai shuffled in his seat, Krowler waved a hand to allow him to speak. The man’s lack of a spine irked him. He had no idea why he allowed his wife to speak for him so often. “Sir, if I may say, I think he’s still quite upset after what happen. He was in his room with a gun to his head being used for ransom.”

“We’re thinking about sending him to a psychiatrist for the time being.” Sara said.

Krowler would never understand young people this days and their obsession with spending a stupid amount of money to admit secrets and feelings to complete strangers. He shook his head and called for a servant. “Bring me the boy, ignore anything he says until he’s sitting beside me.”

The pale-stricken servant nodded and scurried away to the young master’s room. The dining room was filled with silence on one end as Krowler dutifully discussed his plans, expecting only nods and acceptance from his daughter and son-in-law. The air in the room perked up again only when the young master walked in. Or rather, when he was pushed in by a guard. He was still in his nightclothes, hands threaded together in front of him and looking down, eyes groggy and half-lidded. His parents had been right, he didn’t seem like he was getting any sort of sleep.

No matter, he was a man now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’ll get a sleepless night. Karl Mordo sat in the chair between his mother and father, like a child subconsciously looking for protection, how pedestrian.

Krowler decided to give his grandson the basics of his plan. “As you well know, the attack on our family that happened only makes me more concerned on the well being of my two successors.” He gestured at the men, or boys, in front of him. “I have no doubt that the situation will only get worse.”

Karl clenched his jaw and focused on his sleeve of his dress shirt. He always had to change to a better set of clothes when he was in the presence of his grandfather.

“While this is settled, the protesters will only get tired and dwindle down in time, I’ve decided that the best way to keep you safe is to get you all out of the country for the time being. I will stay here and tend to our matters, Nikolai can help over the computer. Boy, you will focus on your studies someplace far away.”

Nikolai Mordo raised his hand ever so slightly before he spoke, it was a habit now. “Wouldn’t it be better to strengthen the security?”

The old man scowled at the man, “I’ve done that twice now, and yet here we are. This country lacks any good, strong men who can impede a  _ pitiful _ guerrilla assassination attempt, and we are not hiring any foreign guards.”

His son-in-law sunk in his seat and brought a hand to his chin, considering the logistics of the situation. His grandson looked to be lost in thought, Krowler brought a hand to the table to make him pay attention. The young man jumped in surprise and sat up straight. That’s more like it.

He continued. “Nikolai, Sara -- you two will be living in England for the time being. I have people in the parliament who owe me favors, I’m sure I can find a reasonable place for you two to stay for the time being.”

For the first time in two nights, Karl finally spoke up. “I haven’t been to England in a long time.”

Krowler couldn’t help but chuckle, “You aren’t staying with them.”

This seemed to come as a shock to his parents. Nikolai crossed his arms and frowned. “Why not? He’s our son, what if something happens to him?!” Sara only glanced at man’s outburst, feigning worry.

“Because if anything happens to both Nikolai and the boy, I no longer have an heir. There more of you there are in one place, the easier you are to track. I am already considering whether or not you should stay with my daughter,  _ Nikolai _ , I suggest you do not question my plans.”

The married couple both sunk into their chair, wonderfully quiet once more. Krowler watched as his grandson shuffled in his seat. “Do you also have something to say, boy?”

Karl ignored the worried glance his father gave him and spoke up. “I was just wondering where I would be staying...”

“I am still working out the details of it. Suffice to say, it won’t be with any sort of relative or anyone you know. All I know is that it will be far away from here and that I you all leave for at least two and a half months.”

The young man clenched his fists beneath the table. “But it’s summer...”

“Did you have plans over the season? Or were you just going to spend your days in the manor like always? You don’t even have friends, boy, you have no excuse.” Krowler spat out through gritted teeth. He stood up from the table, the rest of his family followed in courtesy, and walked out the dining room.

“I will send someone to give you all the details by the end of the day. In the meantime, pack essential clothes and belongings.” He said, not bothering to look at the people behind him. Before he walked to the door he stopped and gave one final word. “I suggest you all brush up on your English.”

He left. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nikolai wrap his arms around his grandson in a tight hug, speaking quietly into his ear. He hoped the boy wasn’t crying again. He’ll have to speak to his mother about trying to avoid that sort of contact. A man groomed with gentleness always turned out to be a coward.

How pathetic.

 

~*~

 

As promised, a maid came into Karl’s room with a stack of papers, interrupting his reading. He had already meticulously folded and organized his clothes in fear that his grandfather would walk in to give him another stern talking to. It didn’t feel right to listen to music or to leave and watch a film, he settled on getting a headstart on his summer reading. He took the small stack of papers from his maid and sent her off.

He skimmed through each one and realized they were options for families taking in cultural exchange students.

There were three families in the list, each one different enough to pique his interest. Karl wasn’t used to having a  _ choice,  _ especially not one given to him by his grandfather. He was still forced to leave his home country, but at least he had the illusion of a say in the matter.

Karl sat on his plush, large bed and took a sip of his tea. He’d spiked it with brandy he stole from the cabinet. It wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to drink, he was of legal age, but it was from his grandfather’s supply. If he couldn’t face him, he could at least steal something dear to him. 

His hand shook as he held his teacup. Karl set it aside. The trauma was getting annoying, to say the least.

The first family was from New Zealand. A couple, Sally and David Wiggs, living in a small cabin in the Bush, to be exact. They had no kids, just two dogs and one cat, which was preferable. The only downside was that they were not only vegan, but seemed to be very invested in being... well, hippies. Mordo had no interest in the lifestyle, he was very happy with his material possessions and taking baths constantly. Perhaps he was assuming too much, but all of his interest in the pair left his mind immediately.

The second family was from Nepal, the Pariyar household -- couple and their three young kids and a grandmother. The cultural experience seemed interesting, yet also bit too far away from civilization for his tastes. He had no interest in ‘ _ learning about caring for goats and other cattle _ ’ or ‘ _ learning the language through an immersive experience _ ’. He’d already suffered through German, French and English classes his entire life. He pushed that pile to the side and hoped that the next option was less... rustic.

It seemed that his grandfather was very keen on having him interact with nature in someway, the first word he saw when he read through the next family was  _ farm. _ Great. 

Most likely he was sending him somewhere that he would be far away from any sort of cities or large groups of people where he could be recognized.

Eugene and Beverly Strange run a fairly large farm in Nebraska. Karl stopped and searched through his phone to find exactly where in America that was, only to find that it was far away from any city in that country that actually interested him. It was in the exact middle of nowhere. They specialized in farming corn, have a son, a daughter and a number of animals, and live in a small town that screamed  _ americana.  _ It also said that they have a lake in their home, love to organize barbecues with their neighbors and live very close to the town’s high school _. _ It all seemed calm, adorable and... boring.

Nevertheless, they seemed to be clean, not vegan, and not living in the middle of the mountains. The lesser of three boring evils.

Karl wrote a note in the back of the Strange family's paper, called for a maid, and gave her the note to send to his grandfather. All it read was ‘ _ I prefer this family _ ’ in an elegant scroll and his signature. He was tempted to an an extra ‘ _ fuck you _ ’ to the letter, but erased it before he could write the  _ u _ . He didn't, of course. He didn't feel like dying today.

The young man slumped on his bed and pulled out his phone. He made a list of books and movies he could enjoy over the summer, researched if there was anything fun to do in that small Nebraskan town (there isn’t) and groaned loudly once he read that the legal drinking age was twenty-one.

This was going to be a terrible summer.

 

~*~

 

Getting into Columbia with scholarships and a 4.0 GPA had been difficult, turned out pre-med ended up being a breeze. He knew it pissed off his classmates, but Stephen had to thank his lucky stars that he had photographic memory and they didn’t. Also, it helped that he actually gave a shit, unlike most of the students who were already debating whether or not they actually  _ wanted _ to become a doctor. He figured most of them were pressured by their parents -- whatever, at least he was having a good time with Christine on top of him.

She said she wasn’t going to do this again. Stephen laughed to himself as he slipped a hand under her shirt. Man, girls could be so predictable sometimes. He probably should say that out loud, thought, Christine won’t hesitate to kick his ass if she heard that.

He unhooked her bra with one hand, feeling her gasp against the hickies she left on his neck, and continued to play with his breasts while she undid his belt.

The phone beside him rang, vibrating against his bedside table, causing them to jolt apart. Stephen reached for his phone and told Christine to stay quiet so his mom wouldn’t her over the phone. He barely noticed it when she started to pick up her things.

“Hey mom, one sec --” He pressed his cell phone to his chest and hissed. “Chris, what are you doing? Just give me a bit.”

She put on her bra again and threw the homework they were supposed to be working on at his face. “I told you I wasn’t going to do this shit again!”

“What, homework?”

He knew she hated that shit-eating grin he would do when he joked. Christine rolled her eyes, “Find a new study partner, Stephen. I’m done with this.”

“You were the one who started making out with me!” He yelled out, the door was slammed before he could follow her down the hallway.

Stephen heard a chuckle over the speaker of his phone, he must have accidentally pressed the ‘speaker’ button. He turned it off and placed his phone next to his ear. “Damn it -- Sorry, mom.”

His mother tutted over the line, “That didn’t sound like it went well. Did I interrupt something?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. It’s probably better that you stopped us now rather than... after.”

She hummed, “I hope you’re using protection.”

“Mom, I’m gonna be a doctor, of course I am.” 

“Are you sure? That memory of yours won’t save you every time, you know.” 

Stephen answered with an embarrassed groan, she simply laughed again.

Usually, Stephen was glad his mother and him got along so well, but sometimes he hated how open she could be. “Why did you call me?”

“Oh, right! I almost forgot.” He heard a clatter of dishes and water in the background as she spoke. She was probably making dinner right now. “You remember that ad we put up to be a host family a while back? Someone contacted us! You’re going to have a buddy to spend time with during the summer when you come over, isn’t that wonderful?”

Stephen had honestly forgotten about that. The first time he heard about it, he doubted that anyone who wanted to enrich their ‘ _ cultural knowledge _ ’ about the United States would want to do it in Nowheresville, Nebraska. Hell, Stephen left the state as soon as he could once he graduated. It wasn’t that he hated being back in the farm, but he wanted to be a real doctor in the city, not some sort of farm vet taking care of his neighbor’s cows.

“Uh, wow that’s... great mom. How old are they?”

“Seventeen, but he’ll be eighteen by the time he gets here. Stephen, he’s Romanian and he’s rich! I can’t tell you the details over the phone, they’re confidential, but we’re going to be paid really well to keep him here for a while.” She sounded very excited, exciting things usually didn’t happen to her. He doesn’t think his mom’s sounded this excited since he started receiving his acceptance letters.

He sat up in his bed. “Woah, mom, slow down. What do you mean confidential? Is he, like, a refugee? A spy on a mission?”

“Don’t be silly. I told you, I can’t tell you over the phone. All I can tell you is that he’s in danger and needs somewhere to stay, so his family chose us.” His mother sighed, sounding serious this time. “Now, when you come, I want you to help him get used to things. Introduce him to the USA, show him around town--just make him feel at home. He knows English, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Stephen didn’t really know what to think. Some rich European kid was coming to their house just to ruin their summer, and now he was being forced to be friends with him. “Did you get a picture of him or something?”

The rush of water stopped and he waited a few seconds before her mom answered again. She was probably looking for the photo. “Oh yes, he’s very handsome. Dark skin, his hair is short-ish, he’s wearing a tuxedo in the picture they sent. He looks so proper! His name is Karl  _ Amadeus  _ Mordo, ain’t that fancy?”   


“I guess...”

“Ha, he kinda looks like Donna’s type. Maybe she’ll get a crush on him once he comes here, you know how boy crazy she can be.”

Stephen was well aware of how “boy-crazy” she  _ wasn’t,  _ not after he found her kissing Jackie Greene in the corn field. Still, Donna was nosy, and maybe she liked boys too. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on her. And him.”

The voice over the line giggled. He heard his little sister yell out  _ ‘mom’  _ angrily. If he knew Donna well enough, she was probably stomping upstairs back to her room like every other defiant teenager would do. “Donna doesn’t sound that excited.”   
  
“She’s just sulking because of some drama about some tv shows she likes, I’m sure she’ll be excited once Karl arrives. You dad is pretty ecstatic about it too, he wants to ask the kid all about Europe and the state of Romania, or something of the sort. Poor kid will be suffocated with questions from your father once he’s here.”

Stephen couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe the guy would turn out to be interesting. And, if he turned out to be a total nightmare, he could always ignore him and just hang out with Wong instead. Donna would eventually annoy the hell out of anyone eventually.

After sharing their goodbyes, he placed his phone on his bed, only to see a message from his mom just a second later. It was the picture of the exchange student and she was not kidding when she said that he was handsome. It was a picture taken at some gala, along with a picture of his passport. Stephen didn’t get how anyone could look good in their passport photo, but apparently this Mordo guy managed to look like some sort of model. Hell, maybe he was one.

Stephen looked at the mess that cluttered his dorm. Books, clothes, scattered notes and band posters he still hasn’t put up -- he has no idea how he’ll manage to get along with a guy who supposedly so uptight with his living space looking like this. He hoped his parents cleaned up his room after he left, though he doubted it. It’s probably still covered to the brim in posters, books and action figures.

  
As he started to pick up his clothes, Stephen wondered if Karl Mordo would be into classic rock. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl arrives in America and tries to get used to the Strange family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's a day early this week since I have a lot to do tomorrow, I might as well post it now. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!

The flight to Nebraska had gone without a hitch. He had less than an hour to arrive at Omaha, a name that he didn’t properly know how to pronounce until a worker asked him where he was going. It was embarrassing, not to mention that this was his first time flying alone. Karl wasn’t nervous about getting lost, he’d already meticulously catalogued all of the details, his spending in the airport and which fast food he would try first. He would pretend that the food would disgust him around his family, but he would lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what it tasted like.

So far, he only managed to try a place called Subway. It was terrible, the sandwich had been very bland and soggy.

Not a great introduction into american food. He hoped the homemade food in the Strange household was made with more effort than this.

For some reason, Karl already missed his family. He didn’t consider himself to be close to any of them, especially not his grandfather, but... they were all he had. Now he was supposed to pretend to enjoy the time he was forced to spend with a seemingly boring, white, american family he didn’t know anything about. 

Karl closed his eyes and focused on the music from his earbuds, a Chopin piece he promised his teacher he would learn properly during the summer. (It was a lie, he had no idea where he would be able to find a piano in a farm.) He’ll have to learn each note from memory and practice the movements in mid-air.

Karl sighed, this was nothing like going back to his boarding school. 

A voice echoed through the speakers, the pilot was alerting them that they were landing. He was exhausted, after a twenty hour flight, all he wanted to do was have a quick meal and sleep. The window beside him shined with occasional bright lights from the houses and the small city, welcoming him to his temporary home. He rested his head against the glass up until they landed.

Karl waited for most of the passengers in front of him to leave, grabbed his backpack and walked out the plane as quickly as he could. He sent a quick text to his parents, assuring them he was fine, and made his way towards where he was supposed to meet the Strange family.

The airport wasn’t very busy, yet even then, Karl already felt lost in the crowd. Not a culture shock, it wasn’t any different than the airports in Europe, but the air was different. Everything felt shifted and chaotic and new.

He needed to find that damn family.

They were hard to find at first, so many people here looked and dressed the same, but it was hard to miss the cardboard sign that said ‘ _ Bună, Karl _ !’ in bright red marker.

Karl gave his best, fake smile possible, the kind he would pretend to have in galas and meetings his father invited him to. Mrs. Strange seemed especially excited, beaming back at him. Mr. Strange only smiled and shook his hand, jokingly asked whether or not Romanian men kissed each other upon greeting, but Karl assured him that there was no need. Their children, Stephen and Donna, seemed tired and clearly didn’t want to be at the airport at one in the morning.

“Ah, hello.” He said, turning to the pair of them. Stephen, the oldest one, smiled slightly and waved at him. Donna, the younger sister, was staring at her phone and just gave him a peace sign. 

Donna had long, straight reddish hair that she clearly got from her father and wore one of those popular t shirts that barely covered the stomach and some jeans. Karl can barely imagine what would happen if he or anyone wore something similar around his grandfather. Stephen had darker hair, like his mother, and wore a t-shirt from a band he did not recognize and tight, tattered jeans. He felt severely overdressed in comparison in his own sweater and trousers. 

“You English is really good, your grandfather wasn’t kidding when he said you were fluent.” Said Mrs. Strange as they walked to baggage claim.

He noticed Donna roll her eyes next to him, “Mom.”

“What? I’m complimenting him!”

Karl laughed nervously. “Thank you, Mrs. Strange. I’ve been practicing since I was young.”

He felt a pair of eyes staring at him. Stephen looked away once he was caught. 

They made their way to the parking lot. Mr. Strange helped him settle his bags in the trunk of the car. It was a big SUV and looked dirtier and more used than any car he has ever been on, the inside smelled slightly of food. 

Once he sat between the two siblings, he felt Donna turn to him. “So, have you ever been to the states before?”

Karl nodded, “Yes. I’ve been to New York City and Washington D.C. I visited Wall Street when I was young and the Smithsonian for my birthday.”

“ _ That’s  _ what you did for your birthday?” She said with a half-smile, seemingly unimpressed. Karl frowned at her.

Mrs. Strange looked back at her children, he heard Stephen laugh beside him. “Don’t be rude, Donna. That sounds like a very nice trip.” She turned to him. “Ever been to Disney, Karl? That’s what most foreigners come here for.”

“No. I wanted to, when I was a child, but I was told it was too silly. I’m too old for it now, anyways.” 

Stephen spoke up this time without looking away from the window. “You’re never too old for  _ magic _ .” He said in a whimsical tone, exaggerating the last word and smiling to himself. His voice was deeper than he had expected, though much like his, it still held the cracking voice of a teenager.

He looked down at his hands, perhaps there was some truth in the statement.

Mr. Strange asked him about the situation back home, about the protests and the state of the country. It wasn’t exactly a topic he wanted to discuss but it certainly seemed to impress the man how much he knew about the subject. He wanted to make a good impression on the parents, the last thing Karl wanted was for them to complain about him to his family. 

As an hour passed and the conversation eventually died down, Karl found himself staring at the window next to Stephen, who was listening to music loudly through his headphones. He couldn’t make out what the singer said but he heard enough to know that it sounded like something old enough that his own parents would pretend to hate. That is, if they actually have ever enjoyed music that didn’t come solely from a piano or an orchestra, Karl wasn’t sure.

Stephen glanced at him with that smile that didn’t seem to leave his face. He took off one earbud before speaking. “Not much to look at, huh?”

“What?”

“Out the window. It’s all flat plains or corn for miles. Must be different from the mountains and stuff back where you’re from.” He gestured outside and, sure enough, his view was obstructed by a cornfield by the road. 

He did his research, then. “My manor is in a mountain area, yes, but the country has its plains and hills.”

“Manor? Damn, you must be hard to impress.” That smile was still on his face as he spoke, he looked like a fox. Karl just noticed he was a piercing in his ear, much like the kind the boys at his school had to hide during classes. 

Stephen noticed him staring and touched it. “Just got it when I was in New York. You have anything pierced?”

Karl shook his head, “No. I’m not allowed, my grandfather thinks it piercings should only belong on women’s ears.”

“He sounds old fashioned.”

“...He is.” Karl really didn’t want to discuss him. Stephen seemed to sense his discomfort and changed the subject.

“What kind of music do you listen to? You can know a lot from what’s on someone’s playlist.” He scrolled down his supposed playlist as he asked. “If you’re gonna be cooped up in our house for a while, I gotta get to know you.”

“I don’t listen to much music. I listen to a lot of classical music that I have to learn to play... sometimes I listen to what’s popular on the radio.” 

Stephen made a noise that sounded like a wince. “Oof, I gotta change that.” He tapped a song on his phone and handed him an earbud. “Here, listen.”

Karl has never shared an earbud before. He cleaned it with his sweater, which earned him another chuckle from the american, and placed it in his ear.

“Something calming. It’s pretty late, after all.” He said, something about his words was calming in it of itself. 

He glanced at the phone’s screen, it was a song he’d heard before but couldn’t name. Space Oddity by David Bowie -- Karl had heard of him before. 

“You like old music, don’t you?” He asked.

Stephen had closed his eyes and was leaning back against his chair. “Yeah, I prefer the classics. Always have.”

The songs kept changing by themselves, each one from a different band or singer from the seventies or eighties. Stephen seemed to be fast asleep beside him, head leaning against the window. Karl couldn’t sleep now, not that he wanted to. He allowed the music to clear his head, wondering what was ahead of him for the next two months.

  
  


~*~

 

When Karl woke up, he found himself in an unrecognizable bright, small room. 

Right, he was in Nebraska, not a padded room in an asylum. 

He must have actually fallen asleep during the car ride. His bags were in the corner of the room and he still had the clothes he wore during his flight on. Did he drowsily walk towards his corresponding room once they arrived, or did someone carry him to his new bed? Karl sighed, how embarrassing.

He took off his clothes changed to something more comfortable, a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Karl contemplated just going down to find the bathroom but after looking at his bags and backpack just tossed on the corner, he impulsively started to fold and organize his clothes and books around his new room. 

It was much smaller and brighter than the one back home. It was... nice. All he had was a shelf for his textbooks and the novels he had brought to finish during his time here, along with a drawer for his clothes, and a desk next to his bed where he could set his laptop. 

Karl took a step back, satisfied with his room, made his bed and finally tended to his bladder. Finding the bathroom wasn’t difficult, it was right next to a room with a sign that said “Stephen’s Room” written childishly in red marker and a smiling face in the side. 

When he walked down the stairs, the only person he found was Mrs. Strange making something in the stove.

“Oh, you’re up early. Did you sleep well?” She asked, a bright smile on her face. 

“Yes, the room is very nice, Mrs. Strange.”

“Please, call me Beverly. Or ‘ _ Bev _ ’ for short. Mrs. Strange is what the guys out in the field call me.” She said with a laugh. Karl would have to get used to the amount of laughing in this household. “You like pancakes, Karl?”

“I haven’t eaten any in a long time. I think I tried them once when I visited america for the first time. We prefer waffles in Europe.” He looked at the batter as it poured into the pan in a perfect circle. 

“What do you usually eat for breakfast?”

“Bread and butter, a fried egg, coffee -- Just not a lot of sweets.” Karl explained.

She gave him another smile, this one seemed warmer. More genuine. “We’re not so different, you and I. I’ll make you a cup of coffee with your pancake.” 

Seeing someone’s mother cook breakfast and clearly enjoy it was strange. As traditional as his grandfather was, he insisted they had servants prepared their meals instead. Karl is sure he’s never seen his mother step foot in the kitchen other than to ask for something. 

“Do you think you could wake up Donna and Stephen for me? Eugene is out in the field talking to someone.” 

Karl nodded and made his way back upstairs, knocking on the door that was clearly Stephen’s. 

A minute passed and there was no response. Karl knocked again and heard a rustle of some sheets, then a thud. “Coming! Give me a second.”

Moments later, Stephen came out only wearing a pair of boxers and holding his shirt in his hands. His hair was extremely bed-ridden, he ran a hand through it to calm it down. “Oh, hey. Good morning, did mom tell you to wake me up?”

Karl nodded, eyeing the room behind the man. It was so messy it made his head spin, the walls were filled with band posters and there was clothes all over the floor. Stephen hastily put on his shirt and closed the door behind him -- he didn’t seem to notice Karl was staring. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll wake her up.” The american placed a friendly hand on his shoulder as he walked into Donna’s room, yelling out ‘ _ Get up, breakfast’s ready! _ ’ and then another thud. Then more thuds. He peeked into her room and saw that the two were hitting each other with their pillows.

How barbaric.

Karl walked down the stairs and ignored their kerfuffle, much more interested in the smell of the breakfast Mrs. Strange was making. Out of nowhere, Donna walked past him, almost making him trip down the stairs, just so she could grab her food and run upstairs again. 

“Is she not eating with us?” Karl asked, clearly confused. He was never allowed to eat in his room unless he was sick. 

Stephen yawned and sat in the table by the kitchen. There were already plates and food set up for everyone to help themselves. “She’s probably gonna watch a movie by herself.” He said, drizzling ghastly amounts of syrup on his pancakes. 

“Seems too early to watch a film.” 

Stephen shrugged. His mother, however, seemed delighted that someone agreed with her. “I like him, I think he’s a good example on you.”

The young man groaned and rolled his eyes but there was no ill intent in it. They both had a warm smile on their face. Mordo took a bite of his breakfast and felt a warmth in his chest he hasn’t felt in a long time.

The rest of the breakfast was eaten in comfortable silence. Once they finished, Karl assured him he could wash their plates, earning Stephen another impressed look from his mother because of him. 

Beverly left the house to bring her husband his food, he was discussing something with their employees, leaving Karl and Stephen alone. He didn’t notice that the american was standing beside him until he spoke up.

“Are you really that perfect and posh or are you just trying to flirt with my mom?” He asked. Karl almost dropped the plate he was cleaning and gave him a horrified look.

“I am not-”

Stephen giggled. “Relax, you wouldn’t be the first. Anyway, you don’t seem like the type.”

What kind of  _ type _ did he seem like, then?

The man continued, he toyed with his pierced ear, like it was some sort of habit. “So, you got any plans over the summer? Anything you’d like to do?”

Karl clenched his jaw. “There doesn’t seem like there is much to do here.”

Stephen didn’t seem to take any offense in that. “Yeah, that’s true. But there are a few fun things you can come up with.”

He seriously doubted that.

“I got a few chores to do, you could help me with that. I could show you around the farm.”

With one last plate to clean, Karl organized them by the side of the sink. He placed both hands on the counter, trying his hardest not to dig his fingernails into the tile. He’d been feeling so warm and welcome just moments ago, only to remember that he was stuck in the middle of nowhere because someone had tried to  _ kill _ him. In a farm. Surrounded by corn.

Stephen gave him a worried look. “Hey, dude, you okay?”

Karl shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to come up with an excuse, and fast. “No I am... still jet-lagged and tired. I think I’ll go back to my room and read.”

“Alright. If you need anything just let me know. There’s some ibuprofen in the kitchen. I know a really good way to massage the head if you get a really bad headache.” Stephen didn’t sound offended, if not a little disappointed. 

Karl huffed. “You fancy yourself a doctor?”

There it was, that ridiculous smile on his face again. “Yeah, actually.” Stephen ran out the door, as if he just remembered something. 

The young aristocrat blinked, alone in the middle of the kitchen, then returned to his room without looking back.

  
  


~*~

  
  


There were so many things Karl did not understand about this family.

The amount of freedom that the two Strange siblings were granted was unnerving, but expected. They were not born to impossible standards, to a political family with hundreds of years of aristocratic background. These were just farm children lucky enough to do what they pleased, so much so that the Donna was allowed to stay in her room watching television until odd hours of dawn while Stephen could dress like... that. All black and messy, like the  _ rocker _ kids in his class, with piercings he only ever took off when he slept.

It drove him insane. Whether it was with disdain or jealousy, he did not know.

Karl had minded his own business for most of his first week. It was the last few days of May, apparently Stephen had just returned from New York city two days before his arrival. As it turned out, the man actually  _ did  _ fancy himself a doctor and was just starting out in the field. He seemed proud about it, boasting that he will be the best neurosurgeon there will ever be. A ridiculous dream, the man did not seem at all focused enough in order to study such a difficult field. He wouldn’t be surprised if Stephen ended up dropping out in his second year and returned back to his comfortable Nebraskan lifestyle, destined to grow corn for all eternity. Like the movie  _ Interstellar _ , only less bleak, just pathetic. Donna did not seem to have any sort of aspirations, she will probably end up in the farm as well.

He stabbed his piece of meat with his fork, quiet as the rest of the family talked during their dinner. Even Donna had been forced downstairs to join them. Perhaps they were trying to impress him--he wasn’t.

The food, however, ended up being the only thing that was captivating his attention. Underseasoned steak, but all the vegetables and pastries were delicious. He’d read in the kitchen as Mrs. Strange cooked with the help of her husband. They seemed happy, carefree. His eyes couldn’t stop darting at the pair.

He wiped his lips with his handkerchief and only then noticed that someone was talking to him. Mr. Strange, oddly enough. He hoped the man wouldn’t ask any more intrusive questions about his home.

“I’m sorry?” He straightened himself up. At the very least, he would have the common courtesy to show his manners in the dinner table, which the two siblings clearly lacked. He caught them throwing peas at each other earlier. 

“I was just wondering what your parents did, the letter your grandfather sent us was pretty vague. If you’re allowed to, that is.” His smile was kind. Karl had to answer the man. 

“I was told I can share most information with you, actually.” Karl looked at his plate as he spoke. “My grandfather is a senator. Mother works in the parliament and she’s hoping to become a senator as well in the the upcoming elections. My father is a lawyer.”

Stephen interrupted his father before he could ask anything else. “So what happened that got you guys in the middle of an attack, then?”

Karl pursed his lips. “I... would prefer not to go into details but the short story is that our country’s democracy is very young and my grandfather’s ideals are very... old fashioned. My mother intends to follow his ideals as well. Some people see it as treason and, well, a small group wanted to take the matter into their own hands.”

The table fell silent, no other noise except the occasional  _ clink _ of his fork against his plate. Beverly instantly tried to release the tension. “But now you’re here, away from all that mess for a while. You’re far from any sort of bad people here, Karl.”

As thankful as he way, his smile felt hollow and false. “Thank you, Mrs. Strange.”

Stephen didn’t seem very content with his answer, neither did Donna. If anything, both of their attention was on him. 

“So, like, why do all vampires in movies come from Romania?” Donna asked. Of course he would get a question about vampires. 

“The Count Dracula novel brought infamy to the place, I believe. Also, Vlad the Impaler had a lot to do with it.”

Stephen lit up at the mention. “Oh, he was really cool.”

“Cool is... not the first word that I would use to describe him.” Karl gave him an odd look, Stephen simply laughed at his answer.

“Do people in Romania actually talk like that? Like the vampires in all the movies?” 

Karl rolled his eyes. “No, that’s a mostly made up accent. If anything, I would say we sound more... Russian. My grandfather especially.”

“So are you a vampire? A spy?” Donna narrowed her eyes. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

“I am neither of those things, but I  _ was  _ born in Transylvania, actually. Perhaps things could change in the next full moon.”

Karl smiled at his own joke. Stephen snorted, “That’s werewolves.”

Beverly chuckled behind her hand, clearly amused by her children's incessant questions.

The initial tension that had filled the dinner table was now gone, completely replaced by familial warmth and more ridiculous questions by Donna that Karl continued to answer with increasingly terrifying answers. She probably had no doubt he was a vampire now. 

“You watch too much Buffy, Donna.” Stephen spoke with a mouthful of pie. Karl grimaced at the sight. 

“I’m just being careful! You never know.”

Karl finished his own slice and dabbed his lips again, earning him an impressed look from Mrs. Strange. She probably didn’t get to see a young man his age doing that very often. 

As Stephen and Donna continued to bicker and Mr. Strange left to smoke, Karl found himself with a lump on his throat that he couldn’t understand.

Meals back home were always so tense and quiet. It only ever got like this if they had to entertain guests. Watching his families fake smiles and hollows laughs had grown him so accustomed to the silence he never stopped to think how it could all be different.

Perhaps they  _ were _ vampires. 

  
He shook those ridiculous, childish thoughts away and took his plate to the kitchen, even after Mrs. Strange assured him not to worry about it, and excused himself back to his room without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen takes Karl out and about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, sorry. Next one will be a LOT longer I promise.

The Mordo guy hadn’t left his room in three days, only ever coming down to eat or watch his mother cook. Actually, Stephen had caught him once typing away on his laptop. When he asked Karl what he was up to, he’d quickly answered with the word “studying” then had later elaborated that he was advancing his work for his upcoming school year.

So, nothing fun. He was sincerely doubting the guy even knew what the word meant, and that wasn’t the sort of word that was lost in translation.

Stephen couldn’t stand seeing a guy waste away his summer on nothing.

After finishing his chores for the day, it didn’t seem like his father was actually allowed  _ him  _ to enjoy his summer properly either, he showered and changed to something more decent, then walked up to Karl’s room. The door was open after just one knock. Karl came out, in jeans and an expensive looking polo shirt, with a pair of tweezers in his hand.

“Hey, what’s up?” 

Karl let him in and returned to his desk, that was filled with tools for building... model planes. “I’ve been entertaining myself with a hobby.”

“You like planes?”

“No, but building models is an excellent way to pass the time. My father is more fond of them than I.”

Stephen chuckled, “You’re like every rich guy stereotype rolled into one. Except... old, white and racist. Please don’t tell me you like golf too.” 

Karl didn’t seem sure how to answer that. Stephen probably didn’t know anything about what it’s like being black in Romania, of all places. 

He also didn’t need to entertain Stephen’s ill-attempt at making jokes.

“Is there anything you want?”

“Just wanted to check up on you. You’ve been cooped up here all week.” He glanced at the walls in the guy’s room. “You didn’t bring any posters or pictures or anything?”

Karl shook his head. “I don’t have any posters... Do most Americans have them?”

“I think  _ every _ teenager puts up posters in their room. My room is full of them. I’m guessing your parents didn’t let you have them either.”

The foreign kid shuffled in his seat, looking nervous about his presence in his room, or maybe just by the entire conversation. “No. Listen, Stephen, I assure you I am fine. I am having a relaxing day making my planes.”

“But it’s summer, you’re not supposed to have a relaxing time you’re supposed to have fun!"

Karl looked at him like he was unfamiliar with the word. He wasn’t, that would be crazy, but Stephen continued nonetheless. “I can show you around town, if you like. Come on, you gotta leave the house sooner or later.”

He glanced at his half finished plane, then at Stephen, then back at the planes again. 

He looked like a joke himself.

“I... suppose I should get some proper sunlight.” 

“Yeah! I’ll go get my keys.”

Karl changed his slippers to a pair of proper shoes then walked down the stairs along with him. His outfit seemed very different from his own t-shirt, jeans and jean jacket that could not be more covered in patches and pins. 

Once they got to his car, Stephen heard a very audible hiss come from the other man. “That is... a very old car.”

“Yep, used to be my dad’s but now he passed on this hunk of junk to me.” He opened the door for Karl and went to his own seat. Karl was playing with the manually lowered windows. “All that matters is that the AC works and that it can takes us where we need to go. One day I’m gonna save up enough to buy a lambo or something, that would be sweet.”

They drove in silence for a while, Karl focused on the far stretches of corn and grass that surrounded the farm while Stephen sang along to the Clash CD he has in his car at all times. The windows were down and Karl kept sticking his hand out to feel the wind, but hiding his hand again every time he noticed that Stephen was looking at him. 

As they arrived to the nearest town, Stephen started pointing out all his favorite places. The movie theater, the thrift shop, a coffee shop -- all of them seemed to catch Karl’s eye. “It is very small. Cozy.” He said as the parked.

“Yeah, there’s only like two thousand people that live here but it’s been growing a bit.”

“Do your parents own the biggest farm?”

“Um... it’s one of the biggest in the county but no, not the biggest in the state or anything. It’s just decently sized.” 

Karl eyed one building in particular. It was the McDonald’s that had just been renovated last summer. He looked like he was buzzing in place. 

“You ever tried any fast food before?” Stephen asked with a smile on his face, leading Karl over to the building.

“Of course I have! Just not... in a very long time.” 

Stephen scoffed. “Sounds like a lie.”

“There is a fast food place near my boarding school, but my parents advised against going.” Karl explained, arms crossed.

“Boarding school? Do you have to use a preppy uniform?”

“Yes, you don’t?”

“Hell no.” Stephen patted him in the back. “How would I be able to show off my cool t-shirts?” 

They went in and chose a table, Karl immediately grabbed a napkin and wiped off any ketchup stain he saw, checked the chair and sat. Stephen could feel a few other customers starting, new people were rare in town. He ignored them, they should mind their own business.

“Wait here, I’ll get us something to eat, my treat. Is there anything you don’t like?”

Karl thought for a moment then shook his head. Once Stephen started to walk away he said ‘ _ wait! _ ’ to stop him. “...I don’t like pickles.”

He returned a few minutes later with a try that had two big macs, two sets of fries and a pair of cups with enough pop to last a week. Karl stared at his food, as if he didn’t know where to start.

“You know you don’t have to use a knife and fork to eat it, right?” Stephen said with a mouth full of fries. 

Karl frowned. “I know how to eat a hamburger!” 

“Cause you’ve seen how to do it in movies?”

The other boy waited to swallow his first bite, wiping the corner of his lips before he answered. “Shut up, it’s basically a sandwich.” He didn’t deny it.

Stephen sipped on his coke and smirked every time Karl took another bite of his big mac. It was amazing how the guy could look so disgusted and intrigued at the same time. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“I am undecided.” He grimaced for a moment then kept chewing, only speaking when his mouth was empty. “This mayonnaise is terrible.”

Stephen shrugged. “Just tastes like regular mayo.”

“Is this what Americans think mayonnaise should taste like?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s supposed to taste different?”

Karl shook his head. “Pitiful.” He said simply, but managed to finish his burger and half of his fries without any more complaints.

He noticed the Romanian’s eyes on his jacket, staring at each pin and patch with confusion in his eyes. Stephen took it off and set it on the table. “See anything you recognize?”

Karl shook his head and pointed at the first patch that caught his attention. “Who is that? I think I’ve seen that robot in a movie.”

“That’s Guy-Man from Daft Punk. They’re robots who make music. Well, not actual robots, just dudes who wear really cool masks and never take them off.” 

Karl laughed. “What about this one?”

“That’s David Bowie, you’ve definitely heard one of this songs somewhere.” Stephen shook his head. “Man, I miss him...”

The Romanian kept on pointing to different patches and pins on his jacket that caught his eye as Stephen explained which band was which. After a failed attempt at trying to hum a song that Karl could recognize, he eventually just leant the guy an earbud so he could listen to the songs he was referring to. He’d never spent so long inside a McDonald’s, it got to a point where the employees where giving them the side eye. The pair left the building, still sharing headphones, walking around the town with no destination in mind.

Out of all of the music Stephen showed him, Karl seemed to like Daft Punk the most. Maybe because it was so different from the music he was usually forced to listen to. Stephen was just glad he had someone that could appreciate his (superior) tastes. He tried getting Donna to like his music but she ended up enjoying pop and bad indie music more. Another bites the dust, it seemed.

“I like this one the most.” Karl said as  _ Veridis Quo _ blasted from their headphones. He seemed happy, carefree. Stephen couldn’t help but wonder how many times the guy had the opportunity to be this way. If he had anyone who did this with him back home, just hanging out without any fear of being grounded by his family.

“It’s a good one.” He watched and Karl walked with a jump to his step. He wondered if the guy liked dancing, maybe they could go to a club in the city or something. 

The seemingly perfect afternoon had to be interrupted eventually. Stephen heard a voice yell his last name from behind them, then a mumble of words he couldn’t hear over the music. They both took off their earbuds and turned around. 

Of course he was still stuck in this town. Stephen thought Nick was going to become a doctor too, the guy was always trying to copy him somehow.

He didn’t understand why he looked so friendly, seeing as the last time they saw each other, they were anything but.

“Strange! Dude, it’s been a while.” He said, arms outstretched to pat his back and shake his hand. Stephen begrudgingly returned the gesture. “What are you doing back in town? City life got to you?”

“Hey, Nick.” Stephen faked a smile. “No, just visiting the family for the summer. I thought you were in pre-med too?”

Nick’s laugh seemed uncomfortable, if not a bit angry. “Yeah, that’ll have to wait. I flunked history and now I have to take summer classes.”

He saw Karl try not to laugh out of the corner of his eye. 

“But hey, I’m working helping cows give birth and shit for now. I’ve basically become the town vet for hire.” He boasted.

Before he could say anything, Karl spoke up. “Are there not other, qualified veterinarians in this town?”

Nick turned to face him, as if he had just noticed Karl was standing beside him. “Who’s this?”

He stuck out a hand for Nick to shake, looking just like the perfect rich boy that he usually was around others. “Carol Nicolescu. I am living with Stephen for the summer.”

Right, he’d forgotten about the fake name Karl had to use around other people. At least it sounded close enough to his real name. 

“Carol, huh.” Nick shook his hand. “That’s a girl name here. Where you from?”

“Germany.” Karl lied.

Nick laughed then had a short coughing fit. Christ, was he high right now? At least Stephen had the tact to do it in private. “You don’t look German.” 

Karl’s face changed, stoic with rising anger. “What do I look like then?”

Stephen placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Though, he probably won’t stop him if he punched Nick in the face. 

Nick didn’t seem to care and turned back to Stephen. “I’m having a small get together at my house later. You should come, Strange. Like old times.”

Stephen glanced at Karl, who was looking down and kicking the pavement, still pretty angry.

“Sorry, I have plans with my friend today.” He gestured at Karl and held him by the shoulders, turning him around as they started to walk away. 

Karl looked at him, slack-jawed. “Friend?” 

“We’re were planning on watching a movie right now actually.” Stephen yelled out over his shoulder. 

“We are?”

He smiled. “I’ll see you around, Nick.”

He didn’t bother looking back at the guy. “Uh -- Sure! I’ll text you!”

"Who is that, is that a friend?" Karl asked beside him, seemingly worried and slightly angry. 

"Not anymore, he's just this asshole who used to be in my class," Stephen shrugged. "He's always been a dick to me, it's just best to leave him be and try to get away from him." It was probably not a great idea to continue the lie, but Karl didn't think too much of it. There were two thousand other people that they were more likely to run into that Karl. Beside, knowing him, he's probably driving up to the city whenever he can instead. If they had one thing in common, is that they were both tired of the small town life. Unfortunately for him, Nick has had the same ideas as him, and he'll probably have to avoid him in Columbia too if he's accepted.

Karl stayed silent for a moment. He might have scared him off with the whole  _ friend  _ thing. This was the only time they hung out, it could have been too soon.

Instead, Karl just looked at him with his usual gentleman smile. “So, which movie are we watching?”

“Oh, I just said that so we had an excuse to fuck off.” They stopped, Stephen’s hands were still on his shoulder. “Unless you want to.”

Karl, somehow already remembering the route to the movie theater, started to walk again. Stephen happily followed. “I do. I haven’t been to a theater this small before.”

"You go to movies a lot?"

Karl looked embarrassed. "Yes, it's a nice way to wind down. I try to go as often as I can. There's one not too far from my boarding school, thankfully."

Stephen grinned. "Alright, on the count of three, we're both gonna say one of our favorite movies. One, two, three--"

"Kill Bill." Karl said, almost immediately.

"The Goonies."

Karl laughed, "Of course. What is with your obsession with eighties things?"

"They made good movies. Okay, again. One, two, three--"

"Old Boy." "Weird Science."

That earned him a grimace. "Weird Science is terrible."

Stephen hit him on the side of his arm. "It's not, you just like movies with seven pints of blood in every scene."

Karl raised an eyebrow, "Alright. Top three now. If you can tell a lot about someone by the music they like, then I can do the same with films. _Unu, doi, trei_ \--"

"Ferris Beuller's Day Off, Labyrinth, Back to the Future Part I."

"Battle Royale, Django Unchained, Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance."

Karl shook his head, almost looking disappointed in his choices, but kept walking along side him, a smile on his face that had lasted longer than any other he'd seen on him before.

“Do you eat popcorn during movies in Romania too?”

“ _ Everyone _ eats popcorn at movies no matter the place. It is the standard.” 

The sun was starting to set as they walked down the town. Stephen kept on asking random questions about the man’s country and Karl would answer back proudly, his accent growing stronger the more passionate he became.

They settled on the showing by rock paper scissors, which Stephen just then learned was used everywhere as well, and ended up watching some random superhero movie that Stephen had already seen with Donna. He didn’t mind, thought, and spent almost the entire movie whispering jokes about the movie into Karl's ear while the other man shushed him, trying to hide his laughter.

He hadn’t had a day this calming and fun since his first date with Christine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl gets to know the Stephen a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter this time but next chapter will be short again :( it's leading up to something special tho, stay tuned!!

Despite the change, Karl still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was thousands of miles away from Romania. Or rather, thousands of miles away from his usual daily responsibilities. Mrs. Strange did not yell at him if he wasn’t reading, Mr. Strange had no qualms about allowing him to go out everyday into town with his son. It was unnerving, the lack of authority in this household was something he would never get used to. Or maybe it was just the lack of punishment.

Donna seemed to be the troublemaker of the two siblings. He overheard Mrs. Strange scolding her after finding a cigarette in her room, yet Donna had the audacity to talk back to her mother, claiming that she had no right to tell her not to smoke when she did as well. Karl was sitting in the dining room table, pretending to read a book as he listened to them bicker back and forth. He’d never spoken back to his parents or grandfather in his life. If he did, well, he would probably get a slap in the face-- or worse. Definitely something much worse.

The young girl was headstrong, defiant, rebellious--his complete opposite. Surprisingly enough, she told him she would be inheriting the farm when she grew older. Karl pinned Donna to be more of a urban woman, but she was contempt with doing so just so she could live an easy life. She told him she preferred animals and plants to people, anyway.

Stephen, on the other hand, held more to him than what met the eye. Karl had misjudged him as an idiotic farm boy who fancied himself a rebel, the sort of annoying and loud american he saw in movies. Not that Stephen wasn’t loud or annoying but,  _ god,  _ the man was kind. He was smarter than he appeared, with the advantage of a photographic memory. The man probably knew more about music than anyone he’d ever met, including his piano teacher.

Everything Karl knew, he’d learned from years and years of blood, sweat and tears. Hours of practice. Stephen managed to learn everything new in a breeze, Karl had already taught him a number of Romanian words, and in return Stephen taught him about other music albums he loved in return.

They were in Stephen’s room, covered to the brim with posters and pictures, an entire rack for his record collection and his action figures. The man seemed to be stuck in a decade that he wasn’t even alive in, his fascination with the seventies and eighties seemed to border more on obsession.

Karl was sitting on a chair beside the man’s bed, turning in circles, while Stephen rambled on about his favorite Rush record as it played in the background.

“I know most people love  _ Moving Pictures _ , and it’s great, but  _ 2112 _ is their best album. Like, lyrically it’s just the best. You could make an entire movie just on 2112 alone. But no, the guy in the record shop keeps telling me that I’m wrong.”

He truthfully had no opinion on the music, perhaps it was too loud and rough for his own liking. “I... enjoy the lyrics.” He shrugged. “It is your opinion, music is subjective.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mom now.”

If he had a penny for every time someone told him that... “Why do you like music so much?”

The American sat up on his bed as if he’d just been asked the meaning of life, death, and reality. He stared at him for a while, waving his hands around, trying to find the right words. “‘Cause... Who wouldn’t?! It’s music, it’s a universal language and it connects us together. When you’re sad, you listen to music. When you’re happy, you listen to music. When you’re bored, or angry or just want to get your mind off things, people turn to some tunes! Haven’t you ever felt that feeling when of when you listen to a song and it just changes your life?”

Karl had never seen the man act so passionate, it almost looked like he’d offended Stephen by the question. He pondered, and was disappointed to find that he couldn’t come up with an answer. “Do you have one of those songs?”

Stephen went to his record collection and chose one without looking around, it was the only organized part of his room, each one methodically placed by year of release. It was a David Bowie album, obviously. The player started to play a song, one that Karl heard every time they drove together, the one Stephen would sing out at the top of his lungs, voice breaking and windows down. So much so, that Karl knew the words by heart and found himself humming along. 

“My dad played this one for me when I was a kid, when we were driving to down or to the city and it made it all worthwhile when we sang along.” He smiled, a happy sort of nostalgia spread across his face, and actually started singing. They locked eyes and Karl grimaced, for having such a nice voice, Stephen was terrible at hitting notes. “ _ There’s a staaaaarmaaaan waiting in the skyyyy--” _

Karl stood up and shook his head. “Alright! Stop, you will break the windows if you continue!” 

Stephen kept singing with a smile on his face, Karl laughing beside him, until Donna banged at the door and told them to shut up. Bless her. 

“Did you ever try playing any instruments? Make music yourself?” He asked. Stephen stopped the record and carefully placed it back in its sleeve. 

For once, Stephen actually seemed embarrassed. “Uh, yeah. My friend, Wong and I tried to start a band in middle school. Wong refused to sing and just played violin, I pretended that I knew how to play bass--it was terrible. We only wrote one song and never played in front of everyone except mom but, yeah, we sucked.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t help that we live in bumfuck, Nebraska.” 

Karl couldn’t deny that last part. “What were you called?”

“The Sorcerer Supremes. I kinda wanted us to be, like, a Rush two-point-oh.” 

He would pay infinite amounts of money to find a video of that song, or at least pictures of a more awkward, smaller Stephen. He’s sure that Mrs. Strange must have some somewhere. 

“But you definitely play an instrument, don’t you, Mr. Perfect?” 

_ Was that supposed to be an insult? _ “Ah, yes. I’ve played piano since I was a child.” It felt weird, not practicing his instrument everyday. If he missed anything, it was definitely his grand piano. Even if he usually ever only played when guests came or when they were throwing some sort of charity gala, just so his mother could have a reason to boast about him to other rich mothers. 

Stephen perked up. There was something in the corner of his room covered by a piece of cloth. Karl always assumed it was some sort of table, but it turned out to be an electronic keyboard piano. “What’ya think?”

It was cheap, and obviously inferior to a wooden, grand piano, but Karl couldn’t help but feel his chest flutter with warmth when he saw it. Stephen took it off the stand and gave it to him, both of them sitting on the bed next to each other. Without a word, Karl began to play something simple. One of his favorite pieces,  _ Gymnopédie No.1 _ , to be exact. His mother disliked the piece, claimed it wasn’t impressive enough for him to play for others. Perhaps that was why it was his favorite, it was a song just for him.

He finished the entire song. It wasn’t perfect, he’d messed up a note and wasn’t accustomed to playing with a keyboard on his lap, but Stephen clapped nonetheless. “That was really good!”

The man was easily impressed. Karl enjoyed it.

“Why do you have a piano?” He asked, fingers idling lazily over the keys and playing a random tune. It eventually turned into  _ Piano Sonata No.13,  _ or rather a ridiculous excuse for Beethoven, but it still made Stephen widen his eyes. He stretched his fingers, if his teacher saw him butchering the classics like this, she would probably kill him.

“Mom bought it for me one Christmas, she thought I would want to learn how to play it. I took a few classes and I was pretty good at it, but I stopped and didn’t really touch it ever again. I feel bad, it was, like, a hundred-and-fifty bucks.” 

Karl had to held back a laugh, that was  _ nothing _ for an instrument. He placed the keyboard back in Stephen’s lap, still idly playing with the keys. “Here, I’ll teach you something simple to impress her.”

He played  _ twinkle, twinkle, little star _ with ease, he knew the song like the back of his hand, as most piano players do. Stephen copied him and, sure enough, it only took him five more tries until he was playing the song with perfectly.

“With your hands and your memory, you would probably be an amazing musician.” 

Stephen raised an eyebrow, still playing the same song over and over. “My hands? What about them?”

For some reason, he was tempted to take one of his hands in his own, incredibly so, but Karl settled on simply pointing at his fingers instead. “You have the hands of a pianist, the are slender and long. It won’t make you automatically talented, but it certainly gives you an advantage.”

That earned him a wink, Stephen had a dumb smile on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t need to play piano to know how talented my fingers are.”

Karl nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m not being gross, it’s just part of life.” Stephen laughed and started to play random notes along with Karl, who was actually trying to play a proper song, eventually creating a cacophony that would make his music teacher go mad. “It was the only reason my ex tolerated me anyway, ‘cause of my talented fingers. Eh, she’s better off without me.”

Karl stopped. Right, of course Stephen would have girlfriends. He probably had dozens of girls fawning over him all the time, like the boys in his boarding school who made up for their stupidity with their attractiveness. Except Stephen was smart  _ and _ attractive, a deadly combination. 

He cleared his throat and continued to play random keys, trying to change the subject. He will not allow himself to ask the man about his love life, even if he doubted that Stephen would mind talking about it.

“I can teach you to play  _ Ode to Joy,  _ if you’d like. That would really impress your mother.”

Stephen cracked his knuckles and sat upright, acting like a perfect student and calling him  _ Mister Mordo.  _ Karl laughed, ignoring his loud, beating heart, and decided that he was happy spending the rest of the day just doing this.

 

~*~

 

Stephen didn’t get Karl. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone this uptight in his life. It got to a point where his attitude should be annoying, but it just ended up being charming.

Karl had two sides to his personality, the way he acted around adults and the way he acted around him. Around his parents, he was the perfect child. He helped around without being told, cleaned up after himself and had a handkerchief at hand at all times, he wore fucking polo shirts and pants along with a rolex that made him look like he crawled out of a golf course--the guy was his polar opposite. It really didn’t help that his mom kept comparing the two of them, giving him pointed looks about how proper and posh Karl was next to Stephen. It didn’t help that he was wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt he’s had since the eighth grade, which was basically a crop top by now, while Karl was drinking tea and reading something on his phone in his button down shirt and ironed pants. 

He tapped away on his phone, texting Wong, and noticed that Karl was staring at him. He smiled back -- Karl looked away quickly without a response.

**2:35 pm**

**wongshot:**

**So when am I going to meet this guy?**

 

**2:36 pm**

**stevie:**

**soon. maybe we can go into town tomorrow**

**2:37 pm**

**stevie:**

**he keeps staring at me lol**

**2:40 pm**

**wongshot:**

**Why?**  

**2:42 pm**

**stevie:**

**i think its cause im wearing the shirt**

**2:43**

**wongshot:**

**Which shirt?**

 

**2:43**

**stevie:**

**THE shirt**

 

**2:43 pm**

**wongshot:**

**Well thats just cheating. That shirt is so tight on you it looks like it was painted on. Of course hes gonna stare**  

**2:43 pm**

**wongshot:**

**hell even i stare at you when you wear it. are you going for the attack?**

 

**2:45 pm**

**stevie:**

**thanks**

**2:45 pm**

**stevie:**

**nah im just gonna wait it out and see. im just wearing it cause its hot outside.**

**2:46 pm**

**stevie:**

**he totally thinks im hot tho**

**2:48 pm**

**wongshot:**

**That, or it could be your ego that makes you think everyone thinks you're hot.**

**2:49 pm**

**stevie:**

**it’s true tho**

**2:50 pm**

**stevie:**

**besides, let me bask in the attention for a bit. Its easier to be hot in nebraska than in nyc, there are way too many pretty people in nyc.**

**2:51 pm**

**wongshot:**

**youre such an asshole lol**  

**2:52 pm**

**wongshot:**

**that guy is gonna get tired of your shit in like, 2 days**

**2:53 pm**

**stevie:**

**wanna bet?**

**2:54**

**wongshot:**

**Are you kidding me**

**2:54**

**wongshot:**

**Yeah**

**2:54 pm**

**stevie:**

**idk hes never had a friend in his life AND is a super virgin. it would be SO easy**

 

**2:55 pm**

**stevie:**

**i bet you 1 oz that we last more than a week if we fuck**

**2:58 pm**

**wongshot:**

**you wish. 1/8 oz and you got a deal.**

 

Right. He doubted he’ll actually take part in the bet, but he would prefer to get dick  _ and  _ free forty bucks worth of weed. Besides, the guy looked easy as hell. He had a embroidered bathrobe, for fuck’s sake.  

Karl finished his tea and stood up to take it to the kitchen. As he did, Stephen gave him a wink, earning him a confused, seemingly angry look back from the guy before he walked away. 

He always liked a challenge.

 

~*~

 

As the week went on, they managed to build a small routine. Stephen would finish his chores tending to the few animals there were in the farm, shower and change, and they would drive into town. Out of all the scattered stores they visited, Karl enjoyed the book store the most. He bought about four fiction novels that he’d never heard of, most of which Stephen recommended, and promised that he would pour over them as soon as he could. The american chuckled and told him that he didn’t have to rush, that he could take his time reading, and Karl thought that may have been the first time he’d ever been told to ‘ _ chill’ _ .

In fact, Karl was starting to feel a bit _too_ relaxed and unproductive. He’d finished his model plane, already was halfway through _The Martian_ (there were so many references to old disco music from the seventies, he could understand why Stephen enjoyed it so much) when he looked outside his window. 

He could see Mr. Strange and his son talking beside the fence where they kept their animals. Stephen had overalls on and rubber boots, slight patches of mud on his face and hands. He looked like the epitome of farm boy, if what Karl had seen in american films was true. All he was missing was the cowboy accent.

Feeling oddly bored, Karl changed to his most expendable pair of clothes, an old pair of jeans and his least favorite polo shirt with his more worn out sneakers, and walked down the stairs to see what they were up to.

As he left, Mrs. Strange gave him a tray of lemonade to bring to the boys. It took him a moment to understand what she wanted, then he remember he didn’t have any servants to tend to his whims, which was probably for the better. He took the tray in his hand and, for once, thanked the classes he took as a child on manners and how to walk properly, as he didn’t spill a drop of the lemonade.

Stephen noticed him instantly, giving him a bright, toothy grin. “Karl, hey! Give me an hour and I should be done with these. Sweet, is that lemonade?”

“Yes. Your mother just made it for you.” 

Eugene Strange chuckled to himself as he poured himself a glass. “Don’t think an hour will be enough, Stevie. You have a lot to do, might be about two hours at best.”

He heard Stephen groan beside him and kick at the ground but he didn’t argue back. He took a swig of his lemonade and made his way to the small chicken coop, grabbing a basket as he did so.

“Ah, Eugene -- I could help him with the animals, if you don’t mind.”

Mr. Strange raised an eyebrow, looking a bit impressed. “Didn’t think it would be your sort of thing.”

“I’m a fast learner.” 

“Well, it never hurts to have an extra hand. Sure, Stevie will teach you the ropes, he’s been helping around with this since he was a toddler.” Mr. Strange took out a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it as he walked away. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the office.”

He turned around and found Stephen smirking at him with a pair of rubber boots on his hand. “Here, put these on. Unless you want your shoes to be covered in goat shit.”

“Goats?”

“Yep, Mom wanted to find a way to make more money during the off season so we started selling eggs and goat milk. It’s not that much but it’s helps when we need it. And since I’m the one who did most of the chores for the animal, I get part of the money made from it as my allowance.”

Maybe Karl shouldn’t mention that he had a ten-thousand dollar allowance given to him for emergencies during his time here. 

He felt the basket being shoved into his arms. “Hold this while I get the eggs.”

Just then, Karl realized that they were surrounded by over a dozen chickens, pecking away at the ground. He definitely wasn’t going to allow himself to get nervous by a couple of birds. 

He shook his leg when they got too close scaring them away. 

“Is it true they can peck your eyes out?”

Stephen started to place a couple of eggs carefully into the basket. “Nah, these hens are all trained and harmless anyway.”

One of the hens started to peck his boot. Karl shuffled closer to Stephen. 

“Here, you try it.”

“Are they dirty?”

“Everything here is kinda dirty. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Karl grimaced and took the last remaining egg, placing it in the basket. He wiped his hand on his jeans. Stephen laughed at him. “You’re so dainty.”

“I am not  _ dainty!” _

“Of course. Whatever you say, Master Mordo.” Stephen bowed as he spoke. “We’ll have to finish if we want to have our tea time in time for brunch.”

Karl knew he was joking but he would kill for a proper cup of tea right now. He played along and curtsied. “Why thank you, Stevie.”

The American laughed, “Shut up. Only my parents call me that.”

He decided he very much enjoyed the sound of the other man’s laugh. “What now?”

“We gotta clean up goat shit, wash them up and milk them.”

Karl was starting to regret offering his help.

There there four goats to tend two, each one was a two person job. The father and mother, named Simon and Garfunkle, and the children, dubbed Hall and Oats accordingly obviously, both pairs were named by Stephen. 

They managed to finish in two hours and a half and Karl ended up with his shirt and jeans completely dirty and damp and with remnants of livestock shampoo somewhere in his hair. Cleaning up their feces had been his least favorite part, not that Stephen was a big fan of it either. Washing their coats turned out to be relatively simple, all he had to do was hold them steady while Stephen washed them up, except Hall, who hated being held and almost left him with a bruise on his arm. 

Milking was Karl’s favorite part, mainly because he could spend more time with Oats, the young female one, who had taken a liking to him.

After they finished, they rested on the patch of grass on the ground where the sun shined the brightest, hoping their clothes would dry a bit before heading inside. Oats happily rested beside Karl, chomping away at the end of his ruined polo shirt. 

“So that’s what I do every morning, except the washing part. That’s once a month. I have to clean out the shit every two weeks.”

Karl petting Oats’s head as he spoke. “It’s much more interesting than my own routine.”

Stephen turned to face him, cheek covered in mud (he hoped it was mud) and hair adorably messy. Karl gulped. 

“I wake up, have typing and writing practice in the morning. Reading for an hour. Piano practice for at least three hours. I help my father with writing letters. More reading. Language practice. Then dinner, then more reading... then I go to bed.”

Stephen paused before he spoke. “Maybe you could teach me a few more songs.”

“I can teach you how to play Life on Mars, if you’d like!”

The American sat up excitedly, almost scarring Oats away. “Shit, yeah! That would be great.”

Stephen beamed at him, pushing away strands of hair that covered his eyes. The man offered him a hand to help him stand up and made his way to his house to shower. 

Karl stayed back, staring at him as he ran, wondering why his heart raced as fast as the man’s feet.

 

~*~

 

The house was covered with pictures.

Most of them were on the wall when he went down the stairs, or strewn across the dining room and the kitchen. 

There are a couple of Beverly and her husband when they were younger, and Karl can clearly see that Stephen got all his looks from her. Same blue-grey eyes, same straight nose, and same counter culture clothes that his son seems to love. In the picture he’d been staring at, she’s wearing a ripped shirt and jeans, big hair that’s definitely permed, and large glasses. Her husband doesn’t seem to match her style, but looks happy, nevertheless. 

His mother would have hated her.

There’s a few pictures of Stephen and Donna, mostly of the two together. A Christmas image caught his eye, it looked fairly recent, and Stephen had been forced to comb his hair back and wear a knitted sweater. There another of Donna and him when they were kids, posing inside a corn maze, except Stephen is carrying his little sister while she cried.

His personal favorite is Stephen’s graduation picture; he’s wearing bracers. The man groaned every time they passed it, clearly embarrassed by it. 

Karl cannot recall if they have any pictures like these hanging in the wall. They have a large photograph of his great-grandfather, an image of his father and mother’s marriage, and a picture of the four of them together, posing regally in front of the grand piano. Karl had been ten at them time, he remembered how his father had braided his hair in order to make it look proper. It hurt, he may have teared up, but his father reassured him that he would look like a handsome prince. They took the picture begrudgingly, and later that day his grandfather had made a maid shave it all off.

He also remembered that his grandfather had shown him a picture of his grandmother. She was wearing a luxurious, pink dress, held tightly by Krowler, who was beside her. Her dark skin contrasted with the silk of the dress and hair was covered by a white wrap. He had her nose. Karl had not seen the photograph since that day; Krowler was probably drunk when he showed it to him.

No one was smiling in any of those pictures.

“You just gonna stand there watching me all day, or are you gonna help?”

The young future baron was snapped out of his trance. Stephen was out driving Donna to his friend’s house that was about an hour away. Not knowing what to do, he sat on the kitchen counter to watch as Beverly cook different pastries. Corn bread, cookies and pie. When Karl had asked what was the occasion she had only winked at him and told him “ _ it’s friday _ ”, as if that was the only reason she needed.

“What do you need me to do?”

Beverly pointed at the sink. “Wash your hands and help me mix up this batter.”

He did as told and helped Beverly with the chocolate chip batter, asking away questions about how to make them. Beverly answered happily, it was clear she loved baking. Maybe Mordo could get used to helping around the kitchen. His grandfather would tell him it was a woman’s job, yet not suitable for such a busy and dignified woman as his mother. 

He shaped the cookies into stars and hearts with the cutters that she gave to him. “Oh, you’re a natural. Did you cook anything back in Romania?”

Karl stopped and shook his head. “No. I wasn’t allowed to help in the kitchens, we have a personal chef to do that for us.” He voice felt quiet and hollow as he spoke.

Beverly pursed her lips for a moment. “Well, you’re here now and you’re  _ always _ allowed in my kitchen. I’ll be happy to teach you some of the basics.”

Karl smiled at her, she patted his shoulder in return. “You know, I could look up some recipes for Romanian food on the internet, in case you’re feeling homesick.” 

“I want to try real American food now. Stephen took me to all the fast foods nearby.”

They placed the tray in the oven. “Really, what’s your favorite so far?”

“Wendy’s.” 

“Good taste.” She smiled softly. “You and Stevie sure are getting along. I was scared you were gonna be cooped up in your room all summer.”

He laughed nervously. “It was the jet lag. I am better now. He has helped me get out of my slump, your son is very kind.”

“And handsome, don’t you think?” She glanced at him and laughed. “Relax, I’m just teasing you. I just wish he wouldn’t wear his earrings all the time, but he’s a grown boy. I can’t tell him what to do anymore. You know, you’re really handsome too, I’m sure you’ll get a cute summer romance with a girl around town in no time.”

Karl didn’t feel very interested in that possibility. “Perhaps... I haven't really met anyone other than you and your son.”

"Oh, you haven't met Wong yet? Ugh, those two are inseparable." She shook her head as if she was remembering something. "I think you'll get along with him, he's just a bit... quiet."

Karl looked down, of course Stephen had many friends other than him that he could be spending his time with. Karl pretended he didn't listen continued to stare at the corn bread as it baked in the oven. She made him a decent cup of tea, she’d bought a few boxes of tea bags just for the two of them, and they sat in the corner in comfortable silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl learns a few things, gets confused, and panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, stuff is happening ya'll! guessing this burn isn't as slow as it should have been but whatevs.
> 
> (spoiler) trigger warning for panic attacks, brief discussions of violence

At first he thought Donna was just staring at him because he was a foreigner. Perhaps she had some sort of crush on him. But these looks would always come when Stephen was near him, whenever he could notice.

They would kick each other beneath the table as they ate. Donna would continue to glance between the two and type something on her phone, which would cause Stephen’s phone to ding, which would result in him telling her to  _ fuck off _ . 

It was a vicious cycle that Karl couldn’t understand. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have siblings himself. 

The texting died down after Mr. Strange gave them a stern look. Still, Karl couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Were they making fun of him? They were definitely talking behind his back. 

After dinner, Stephen and him sat on the porch sharing a beer that Mr. Strange allowed them to take. Well, sharing was the wrong word. Stephen was the one drinking it, Karl wasn’t entirely comfortable with breaking the country’s laws. 

Oats was resting calmly on his arms. She was still young and small enough to carry her, and had somehow grown more attached to Karl than anyone else in the farm. So much so that she prefered to be milked by him rather than by Stephen. Beverly joked that she was practically his daughter now, Karl thought it was a bit too true. Not to mention that he now felt responsible for the small creature’s well being. 

Music was playing from Stephen’s phone as they sat in silence, enjoying the lyrics. Eventually, Karl had enough. He tapped the pause button on the music player. 

“What was your sister joking and texting you about?”

Stephen almost choked on his beer. “Sorry?”

“She was looking at me then would text you...” He looked at Oats instead. “Were you two laughing at me?”

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, certainly nothing Karl wasn’t used to. The boys at his boarding school were cruel. He’d never gotten in a physical altercation with them but they said terrible things about him behind his back. As his grandfather, Krowler, had many enemies and unpopular policies, much of the parents or teachers wouldn’t exactly stop them. 

Stephen shook his head. “No. No! She was just being stupid, she’s fourteen and talking about stuff she doesn’t know about.” 

Karl bit his lip. “What sort of things?”

The american pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just... assuming shit that probably isn’t true. Look, don’t worry about it. Donna’s a good gal, she’s just nosy. You learn to ignore her.”

Karl couldn’t help but consider what exactly she  _ was _ assuming, but he didn’t drag the subject on. 

The morning after, Stephen and him went out to town again to see a friend. Apparently he’d been too busy working in the first days of summer, and hadn’t been able to come to his hometown just yet. Stephen buzzed in his car-seat, telling him all about his best friend, Jason Wong, dubbed simply as Wong.

He had long hair, chubby, and if looks could kill everyone in around him would be dead by now. His default expression was angry and unimpressed, whereas Stephen usual had a small smile across his lips, or a smirk. It seemed that Wong was one of the few people who could wipe both off his face.

Karl didn’t quite get their relationship. Wong was bossy, constantly making fun of Stephen and making him help him with his work for free. Stephen would either brush the criticism aside or return some sort of clever quip or bad joke that Wong didn’t laugh at. 

He quite liked the guy, he always seemed to know exactly which book anyone needed. He worked in his parent’s bookstore in town, which was now becoming their main place to  _ hang out _ in. The town was small and people would only ever start coming in waves to buy any school books, so they could sit in the back while Mr. Wong tended to any scattered customers.

“Carol, Stephen told me you speak a lot of languages. You know Mandarin?” He asked, interrupting him from his reading. Karl would usually just let the pair talk, talking excitedly about any gossip they heard from their former classmates, mostly on Wong’s part. 

“ _ Only the basics.”  _ Karl replied in Mandarin with a struggling accent. Wong looked impressed.

Stephen gawked at him. “Why are you so good at everything?” 

The Romanian smiled to himself. “Years of being cooped up in a... house must have been worth something, right?”

Wong took a sip of his tea. “You know, Stephen once tried learn Spanish to impress a guy in our class.”

“Oh god.” He looked to his side and saw Stephen covering his face with his hands. “Don’t tell this one, it’s terrible.”

Karl perked up. Stephen tried to impress a  _ man? _ Oh.  _ Oh. _

“We had a new classmate called Gabriel, his parents work in one of the nearby farms, and Stephen thought he could impress him by trying to flirt with him in Spanish.”

“Please, Wong, you’re killing me here.”

Wong continued with a smirk on his face that he hadn’t seen before. It was like tormenting his friend was the only thing that brought the man pure joy. “Stephen sat next to him and his friends at lunch and started talking to him in bad Spanish, saying romantic and cheesy stuff about how attractive the guy was. Turns out Gabriel didn’t know any Spanish and thought Stephen was being an insensitive shithead.”

“I almost got suspended.” Stephen was resting his head against the table in defeat. “And then that’s how my parents almost found out I was bi, too. It sucked.”

Karl nodded with seemingly keen interest, but all he could think about was how Stephen was interested in men as well. Had he ever kissed one before? Dated another man? Karl has never dated  _ anyone _ , he just expected his parents to find him a pretty and rich wife someday.

Suddenly the idea seemed vile and ridiculous.

Stephen changed the subject and started talking about something, Karl didn’t bother pretending to care. He was staring at him, thankful that his skin wasn’t pale enough for anyone to notice that all the blood had rushed to his face and ears.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Wong taking a sip of tea and smiling at him. A knowing smile that crawled in his skin.

Christ, was was he going to do?

Karl didn‘t consider himself to be a nosy man. He valued his privacy as much as he respected the privacy of everyone around him. It was the way he was raised, that he shouldn’t care about other people’s problems or lives unless their state of affairs affected him directly.

But he wanted to know more about Stephen. Everything, actually. Perhaps it was because no one had ever been so kind to him before. Because he’d never had anyone he could consider his  _ friend. _ And now he was surrounded by a family who actually wanted him to be happy and a man who befriended him without expecting anything in return.

He has a crush. He had obvious feelings for a man he’d just met. Karl always knew he liked men, he buried it deep down and had decided early on that he would ignore it and simply not get close to anyone. But that was back home, where no one had even made the effort to know him beyond his family name.

They were new emotions, feelings he wasn’t familiar with. Of course he would somehow fall for Stephen, like a puppy meeting the first human that gave it a treat.

He would ignore whatever he felt, it was for the best. Their days together were numbered anyway. He would return to Romania in two months, Stephen would return to New York to study, and they would never see each other again. Perhaps they would write letters, emails, texts -- those would eventually die out and they would live their separate ways.

It would break his heart, it would leave him wary of ever finding someone else. Karl just couldn’t allow that to happen to him. 

 

\---

 

He just wanted to eat breakfast in peace, have some time away from Stephen for a while to clear his head. Karl knew he looked busy, he was eating a batch of pancakes he made for himself and catching up on his reading. Nevertheless, Donna continued to stare at him, tapping her fingers on the table as if she was waiting for something.

He’d had enough. “Is there something you need?” Karl asked in the calmest tone he could muster.

“Nothing, just wondering why you’re really here.” 

Ah, right. She was still convinced he was either a vampire or a spy, or both at the same time. Donna was seriously getting on his nerves. He had avoided saying anything, of course, in hopes of not angering Stephen or her parents, but if he was honest he would prefer not to talk to her at all.

Karl never cared for paying attention to girls.

“You already know why I came here, it was for protection.” He sipped on his mug of coffee, hoping Donna would leave. “But think of it as a... cultural exchange.”

The young girl persisted. “But, like, what culture would you even exchange? We don’t really have a culture here, just farming and beer and going out to town for shitty fast food.” 

She had a point. 

One of the many things he learned when being an aristocrat was to lie, make up tales in order to make oneself seem better than they actually were. Karl smiled at her, “Cities are too big and would have people who could recognize me, not that I am famous, but I am the grandson of a controversial Romanian politician, there would eventually be someone who would find out. Small towns like these do not care for such things. I also wanted a change of scenery.”

Donna didn’t seem convinced. “Not much scenery to look at here.”

Karl couldn’t deny that either. 

“Wouldn’t you prefer to be in New York? I’ve always wanted to go, I went once when I was a kid but don’t remember anything.”

“New York is wonderful, yes, but it is very loud.” He smiled to himself. “But there are so many kinds of people. Food and things I have never seen before. I hope you get to go there again, you could visit your brother.”

Donna rolled her eyes, “Ugh, Stephen wouldn’t stop talking about it when he first moved. Got to sneak in clubs and parties and stuff, but I think he was lying just to impress me. He’s a nerd, you know.” She sneaked in closer to whisper. “I think he hasn’t even left the campus since he got there. How else would he get straight A’s in everything?”

“Is he now?”

“Yeah, I know he acts like he’s some badass punk or whatever but he’s, like, a mathlete. He won second place in a state science competition and everything.”

Karl smirked, “I won’t tell him you told me that.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a pill case next to Donna that she was playing with. There were at least five for each of the days. Donna caught him glancing at it and sighed. “Yeah, I should probably take these.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Those are yours?”

Donna took his glass of orange juice and popped all the pills in her mouth before drinking what was left of it.  _ Christ _ . “Yep.”

She seemed very young to be taking so many pills.

“Relax, they’re not crazy pills.” 

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking that.”

It must be a common occurrence for people to think otherwise, she looked impressed. “They’re for my headaches, I was born with them, along with some other stuff. I just don’t like taking them ‘cause it ruins my appetite.”

Karl glanced down at his half eaten pancakes and pushed the plate towards her. She’d already taken all of his orange juice, anyway. And the maple syrup Americans enjoyed was sub-par, at best. “Here, you can have it before your appetite is ruined.” 

“Damn, thanks.” She gave him a smile and took his fork as well. He’d been hoping she could at least look for her own, but alas. 

Finally, he got some more peace and quiet. The only sound he could hear were of the occasional bird and the soft  _ clink  _ of cutlery against porcelain plates. 

He didn’t actually expect it to last for long. Donna wiped her syrup covered lips on a paper towel and shrugged. “Y’know, I’m the reason Stephen is gonna be a doctor.”

Karl lowered his book, suddenly interested. “Yes, he mentioned he is in pre-med, am I correct?”

“Yeah, near New York City. Wants to become a doctor so he can help me get better.” She smiled to herself. “I don’t know if he’ll be any good, he only ever acted like a doctor around wounded animals. Or when I broke my leg.”

No wonder the man was in charge of caring for the animals in the farm, he always seemed so much softer around them. “I’m sure she would be a good doctor. He is smart and kind.”

Donna paused. “Would you let him be your doctor, if anything happened to you?”

That was... quite a loaded question, he had no idea how to answer it. “Not sure, would you?”

Her face turned from relaxed and uncaring to something he hasn’t seen before. She looked determined, looking at him as if he was asking something ridiculous. She resembled Stephen so much then and there, it was the same face he put on when he passionately defended his favorite music. “Of course I would, he’s my brother.”

As the tension grew in the atmosphere, Donna decided to skip anymore awkward small talk and left to her room.

He blinked and returned to his reading, wondering what just happened.

 

\---

 

As the days passed, Stephen felt that Karl and him had properly become friends. They were spending everyday together, either going out or staying in Stephen’s room listening to music, watching films, or having Karl try to teach him how to build model ships. 

He had steady hands and were precise enough to manage to build part of it, but it was super boring. They ended up laying in bed and talking, classic rock playing in the background. It was nice, it’s been awhile since he had someone to talk to about serious stuff. Wong didn’t like to worry about anything, and even if he gave good advice, he preferred to talk with his best friends about things that didn’t matter. Christine took things  _ too _ seriously, she wasn’t as fun as he thought she could be, even if she was great in the sack.

Karl was a mix of both. Sure, he had a pole up his ass all the time, but he was cute, and slowly getting more comfortable with every passing day. Enough that he fell asleep out of nowhere right next to him. He’d mentioned he wasn’t sleeping very well, something about a recurring nightmare and the change in time zones. Karl looked adorable when he slept, so much so that Stephen didn’t even think about waking him up to tease him. He turned off the movie they were watching and typed away on his phone instead.

He took a picture too, obviously.

Stephen couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially when Karl started panicking mid nap, he’d moving slightly to the side with plump, parted lips, whimpering softly. All the blood had rushed from Stephen’s cheeks to his dick, and now that was the only thing he could think with, apparently.

Karl had ended up waking halfway through his dream, or nightmare. He looked embarrassed that Stephen had seen him, and excused himself to wash his face. He watched the groggy young man come back and sit beside him again, averting his gaze.

“Hey, nightmare again?” He asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Karl nodded, “Yes. It wasn’t too bad. I’m... sorry you had to see that.”

He didn’t think there was a proper way to tell him that he didn’t mind it at all, seeing as Karl had been whimpering and squirming the entire time. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do not.” Karl said through gritted teeth. He looked tensed and stressed, even more than usual. Stephen rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna take a walk or something?”

The other man thought for a moment before answering. It was almost night time, the sun had set hours ago, but Karl probably needed some fresh air.

That, and they would have more privacy if they went around the farm, where no one was at this hour. Stephen hadn’t forgotten about his and Wong’s bet. To be honest, he didn’t want to do it for the free weed, but if he really spent the entire summer without getting at least a handjob from this guy, who clearly liked him, he was gonna go insane. Or just severely doubt his abilities.

Ultimately, Karl nodded and they headed out without being noticed. He sat on the porch, taking a deep breath with his head in his hands. 

Stephen nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you wanna go into corn field?”

Karl frowned, confused. “Why?”

“It’s real dark and quiet there, kinda spooky. My friends and I would hang out in it all the time.” It was a lie, Wong always refused to go into the field and the only time he ever went in with someone else was with some girl to get a blowjob. Or with Donna, when they were young, and she had been too afraid of the dark to go again. “It’ll calm you down.”

Karl nodded hesitantly. He followed close behind him, using his phone flashlight to light the way.

It was time for Stephen to pull out all his tricks.

He wrapped his over Karl’s shoulder. “You feeling better now?”

“It is... certainly dark.” The Romanian noted. “But there is a nice breeze.” 

“Yeah, it’s really pretty out here. You know what else is pretty?”

Before he could answer, Karl heard a rustle of leaves and something moving in front of them. He jumped, fumbling with his phone to point his flashlight at its direction. It was just a squirrel that ran off the second the light hit it.

“Oh, I haven’t seen one of those in a long time.” He had a soft smile on his face. Damn it, Karl probably didn’t even hear him. 

“Yeah, you like animals?” 

“I suppose everyone does. I like cats the most. And I suppose goats now, as well.” 

Stephen smirked. “Cats huh? Yeah, you remind me of a cat.”

“How so?”

“You’re all... docile and elegant and clean at the time.”

Karl didn’t react at all to that other than looking around them, his flashlight pointing everywhere, and his free hand moving corn out of the way. He was getting increasingly nervous. “Are there any more animals around here?” He asked.

“Yeah, we get coyotes sometimes and foxes, which sucks. But usually it’s just small animals like rats and birds.”

Karl made a disgusted sound. “If a rat touches me, I’m holding you accountable.”

“Do worry, I’ll save you from it.” He said with a wink that Karl didn’t notice.

He gritted his teeth and decided to be a bit less subtle. “So, you got anyone back in Romania waiting for you?”

“Well. My grandfather stayed in Romania, but I doubt he misses me very much. I have a few other family members, distant. We do not talk much.”

Stephen laughed nervously. “No, uh... I meant if you had a girlfriend.”

Karl actually laughed at that, shaking his head. “No, no. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

_ ‘Obviously _ ,’ thought Stephen. 

“Really? You’re a handsome guy, real put together and rich.” He squeezed Karl’s arm. “And you got these muscles and thighs, girls love those “

Karl stopped walking and sighed. “I, uh, go to a private boarding school. There are no girls for me to look at or interact with that aren’t my teachers.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “What about a boyfriend?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

He didn’t get the shock, or the embarrassment, Karl knew he was bi, right? “Just asking, don’t wanna assume.”

Karl shook his head. “No... No I don’t have a boyfriend.”

_ Well, duh _ . He wasn’t denying anything, thought, even if Stephen had a pretty good idea of what Karl’s interests where. “Hm, maybe you’ll get some more luck here in America.”

“Maybe...” Karl stopped in his tracks again and looked around them, only seeing corn around and above him everywhere. He hoped the guy wasn’t claustrophobic or anything. “Um, you know how to leave back to the house, right?”

This was it, the perfect opportunity to stay a with him little longer. Stephen faked a worried look, “Uh, let’s see. I think so? It’s been a while but maybe it’s this way.”

He held Karl’s shoulder and lead him in the opposite direction towards the center of the field, where he knew there was a bit of a  open space they could relax in. 

Karl didn’t look relaxed at all. In fact, Stephen could feel him shaking beside him in silence, eyes darting everywhere. He looked paranoid, distressed. This might have been a bad idea.

“Hey, you good? Don’t worry, we’ll get out of this.”

Karl shook his head and gritted his teeth. “I don’t like this. I want to go back to the house.”

“We will, we will. There’s an open space right in the middle of the field where you can breathe for a sec, okay?”

Once they arrived at the center, Karl collapsed on his knees on the ground, breathing rapidly. Shit, he was having a panic attack. Stephen didn’t what to do during those in pre-med yet, shit.

He stroked Karl’s back. “Sorry, I thought this would help.”

The Romanian practically  _ growled _ . “Well, it  _ didn’t.  _ Thanks a lot.”

“Hey, hey -- chill out. No need to get mad.”

“Of course I have the right to be mad! I am stuck in the middle of a field with _you!_ How the hell is this supposed to make me feel any better?!” Karl snapped and stood up, smacking his hand away.  _ Shit _ . He was shouting in Romanian, pointing at him and saying something that was probably very rude, he couldn’t tell, but it was loud and said through his teeth, growing closer and pressing a finger to his chest with every syllable. 

“Karl.  _ KARL! _ I don’t get what you’re saying!” Stephen grabbed his arms by his wrists to get him to stop, which made Karl panic even more.

“Oh christ, I don’t want to die here.” The man looked like he was going to faint, or cry. “I don’t... I can’t--”

Stephen laughed. “We aren’t going to die here, we’re surrounded by food. Haven’t you seen  _ Interstellar?  _ This stuff can last a lifetime.”

“You idiot! Why are you laughing?!” Karl tried to free himself from his grasp, and with every tug of his arm he looked weaker, more defeated. “Please, I want to go back home. Let me go.” 

Stephen already had, but Karl was repeating the words over and over in different languages as he slumped to the ground again. “Please, let me go.  _ Please.” _

“Karl, I did. I’m not holding you.” Stephen sat beside him, but he doubted Karl was actually listening, or even realized where he was. “Karl?”

His mantra eventually died down, he was still sitting with his knees against his chest, refusing to make eye contact. But he was breathing normally and it didn’t seem like he was crying. Stephen continued to stroke his back, feeling incredibly guilty for causing this in the first place.

“Is this about the nightmares?” He asked in a quieter voice. It took a minute before Karl nodded, still not looking at him. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what they were about.”

He saw Karl clench his fists. “The... attack. They had a gun to my head and took me for ransom. I was in the dark, surrounded by four men. I thought--” He let out shaking breath. “I thought they were going to kill me.”

“But they didn’t, and you’re here now. No one knows you’re here, they can’t hurt you.”

“They shouldn’t have done so in the first place. I am not my grandfather, I have nothing to do with my family’s impact and their dark ways.” Karl bit his lip. He didn’t get how the guy wasn’t crying, but if he was, he was holding it back. “I am not them.”

All his thoughts about Wong, and the stupid bet, and all the intentions he had when they came here in the first place went away immediately. This is what he got for thinking with his dick, it always leads to regret. Stephen reached out to take Karl’s hand but ended up holding his shoulder instead. 

“I haven’t met them but... I know you’re a good guy, Karl. Better than them. Have you told anyone else about this?”

Karl whimpered. “No, they said it was unnecessary and useless.”

“Talking to people isn’t useless.”

“We don’t talk in my family, you wouldn’t understand.”

Whatever the hell those assholes did to Karl, both his family and his kidnappers alike, was making him see red. Stephen had to take a moment to breathe himself, he wished he knew what to say, he wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at comforting people that weren’t his sister, and even then all he did was crack a joke when she got hurt. But the last thing Karl needed was a joke right now, he just needed a friend.

The man was coming down, his panic turning purely into sadness. Still slumped on the ground, his head between his knees. Stephen hated seeing anyone like that. He’d seen Donna in a similar position, crying with her long, red hair covering her face. 

He pointed at the sky, the lack of light in the town allowed them to see a few stars through the clouds. “When I get stressed I like to look at the stars. And the moon looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

Karl shrugged. “I suppose. I don’t usually look at the sky.”

“Well, it’s nice to look at it once in awhile. It makes you feel less alone.”

“That would have been useful advice when I was a child.” The Romanian sighed. 

Jesus, he couldn’t win, could he? He tried to change the subject. “You think there’s something out there? Bigger than us?”

“Like God?”

Stephen chuckled, “I was thinking aliens and cosmic beings and stuff.”

“You watch too many science-fiction movies. If there are, they don’t care about us. The universe is indifferent, we can’t control anything that happens to us.”

Sheesh, this guy was pessimistic. 

The pair fell silent, watching the stars for what felt like an hour. If he ignored everything that had just happened, it felt like a nice, relaxing stargazing date. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.

Stephen stood up, helping Karl get on his feet, and promised that he would get him back home. He was pretty sure they were walking the right way, if not they could simply walk around the field and eventually find his house. Halfway through, Karl stopped him and again.

“Stephen, I’m sorry I raised my voice at you.” 

He turned to face him and looked down at the shorter man. Despite their size difference, he'd never seen the guy look so small. Karl wasn’t looking at him, he wondered what he was feeling right now. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s my fault we ended up here in the first place.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled, you were only trying to help. I’m sorry.” 

Stephen raised a hand to pat him in the shoulder and saw Karl flinch.

“Stop apologizing, I’m not gonna accept any of them because you shouldn’t be saying them in the first place.” At that, Karl shut up and nodded. Maybe he was being too harsh, the guy had just had a massive freak out after all. “Tell you what -- if you want you can sleep in my room tonight. You have my bed and I’ll take out a sleeping bag. If you have nightmares you just wake me up and it’ll all be fine.”

“I-- Why are you so kind to me?”

They were walking again, right out if the field and standing just a footstep away from his house. Stephen could have replied with anything -- with a lie, a joke, a simple answer that would make Karl understand he was worthy of friendship. But he could see Karl properly now, out of the dark of the field. His eyes looked tired, in disbelief. 

Stephen opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, he didn’t really have a good explanation. 

Cautiously, Stephen reached to grab Karl’s hand. Karl’s eyes darted down to look at their fingers, his own slender and pale hand wrapped around the other’s calloused, darker one. 

He stepped closer, their faces just inches apart. Karl still hadn’t moved, but he wasn’t panicking or shaming, just standing there and waiting.

When he leaned in to try to kiss him, Karl looked down again and averted his gaze. Stephen didn’t say anything about it.

“I... think I’ll sleep in my room.” 

He’d already walked away before he could answer, running to his house without a second thought. 

Stephen looked up at the sky and felt as if the stars were laughing at him. 

God, he was such a dick.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen tries to fix things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so that burn was definitely not as slow as you may have thought! the boys talk things out, sort of.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** brief discussions of kidnapping and abuse

Karl was ignoring him.

It was subtle, he would make up an excuse not to go out, only tend to Oats and leave Stephen to do his own chores or would prefer to spend time with his mom instead of with him. At first he thought the guy was jealous after meeting Wong, that he didn’t expect Stephen to have another good friend that he could spend time with. 

But it was about the night at the cornfield, it was definitely about that. He’d accidentally made the guy have a panic attack, for Christ's sake. And then he tried to kiss him! Nice going, Stephen, that’s a great way to get laid.

He still wasn’t over that absolute fuck up on his part. 

He’d texted Wong, wondering what he should do, and received a message that only said ‘ _ you’re a coward _ ’.

Of course, Stephen knew that Wong knew. Wong could read him better than anyone else, apart from his mother, and even Donna noticed that his friendship with Karl was turning into something deeper. They probably thought it was just a summer crush... Stephen liked to believe it was more than that. If it was simply a summer crush, he would have taken care of it it ages ago. He was efficient and quick -- if he was attracted to someone he would make a move. Karl was... different, he’d gravely misunderstood the man in the first place.

Of course it would hurt them both if they ever became more than friends, they would have to break up before the summer ended to break themselves any sort of further pain. But Stephen was a romantic, a dreamer when it came to situations like these, maybe it could work.

Either way, he needed to talk to Karl soon before he ended up closing himself off in his room again.

With a last minute plan, Stephen waited until it was night to sneak into his dad’s office and grab a few beers into his backpack. He didn’t drink that much, any future doctor shouldn’t, but tonight might be tense. He grabbed the latest batch of cookies that his mother had made with Karl earlier for good measure.

Karl may have been trying to hide the fact that he went to milk and say goodnight to Oats almost every night before he went to sleep for the past week, but Stephen found out days ago. It was kind of adorable.

He sneaked behind the Romanian, trying not to startle him so he wouldn’t startle the other goats, but to no avail. The instant Karl noticed him he tripped on his feel, almost stepping on the poor animal, cause Oats to let out a high pitched, goat-y scream.

_ Off to a great start, Stevie. _

“What are you doing here?!” Karl hissed out, bending down to pick up Oats and calm her down.

Stephen took out a bottle from his backpack and showed it to Karl. “I thought we could go for a drive and have a drink and talk.”

He shook his head. “No, it is illegal for me to drink here.”

“Karl, underage drinking is the only fun thing you can do in Nebraska.”  

“You are peer pressuring me.” The man said with a frown. Stephen couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. 

“You’ve been watching way too many safety videos in your school, I thought Europeans were more lenient about these things.” 

Once she finally calmed down, Karl put Oats down so she could sleep in peace. The pair went through the fence quietly, trying not to alert the animals or anyone inside the house. 

“What do you want, Stephen?”

“Nothing! I just want to go out for a drive and talk with you.” He shrugged. “I thought it would be nice. Just the two of us, listening to music, looking at the stars.”  

Karl looked down, thinking about something, then back at his friend. He looked tired, Stephen knew he usually had a strict sleeping routine, but calmer than he was earlier. “I... don’t understand. It’s almost midnight. You’re parents let you go out at this time?” 

“No, but I’m eighteen and so are you. They won’t care that much.” 

Karl pondered for a moment, weighing his options. Stephen wondered if he was going to bring up what happened, the huge elephant in the room, but it seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” 

Stephen gave him a wide smile. “Yes! Trust me, I know a really nice spot.” 

“But you will promise me this, you will not drink anything until we get there.” Karl sounded stern and almost reminded Stephen of his mother for a moment.  

“Alright, alright.” He placed the bottle back in his backpack, where it the beer was being kept next to a small bag of ice. 

They made their way to Stephen’s old battered car, Karl joked in a nervous tone how it was going to abandon them in the middle of the highway one day. Much to Stephen’s surprise, he was the one who chose what music they would listen to. 

“Bowie?”

“We are going to look at the stars. Songs about space and star-men seems appropriate.” The Romanian still seemed nervous, he didn’t look entirely sure _why_ he was here with Stephen doing this ridiculous thing, but he gave him a small smile nonetheless, tapping his foot away at the tune of _Space Oddity._  

And just with that, Stephen had to compose himself for a moment before he turned on the car. He was glad the moonlight didn’t shine bright enough for Karl to see how red his cheeks were. Yeah, it was definitely a good call to break up things with Christine before he came here. This was his chance to make things right, he better make it count.

They drove down the empty road, windows down and wind blowing in their faces. The silence was comfortable, the music was too loud to talk over anyway. He glanced to the side and saw Karl with his hand out the window, catching the wind in his palm. 

Had he ever done this before? Had Karl ever allowed himself to be spontaneous and free?  

Maybe he should say something, apologize for what he did. 

They continued in their silence, listening to songs about astronauts and heroes. Both things Stephen wanted to be as a kid. It all seemed so ridiculous now. 

The trip up the hill went quicker than he thought it would. It was supposed to be his hidden place that he and Donna found years ago hiking with his dad, a perfect place for picnics or running away. And a view of miles of corn and plains -- not really the best view, but at least it was calming.  

Stephen turned down the music and fished a beer from his backpack. Karl was simply staring at the fields in front of him, leaning back in his seat.

“You sure you don’t want any?”  

Karl shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”  

This was turning out to be more awkward than he expected. Then again, he came here without a plan in mind or any sort goal. He had fantasies, of course, but seeing the way the night was going it seemed bleaker by the second. 

Stephen place a hand on the car keys, about to start it up again and head home, but Karl spoke right before he decided that this had all been a mistake. 

He sighed, “Fine. Just one bottle.”

Stephen scoffed. “For real?”

“Just give me one before I change my mind.” 

He obliged, watching in joyful awe as Karl chugged half the bottle down in one gulp. Noticing what he’d done, he continued to simply sip his drink, letting out a burp in the process. Stephen couldn’t help but laugh.

“...I drink at home sometimes, back in Romania. My grandfather has a stash of old expensive whiskey that he taught me to drink when I was young. He still liked me when I was a child.” Karl admitted. “Though, I am still a lightweight, it seems.”

Stephen wondered what sort of drunk the man would be. He’d never gotten too drunk himself, just bordered over tipsy, and only usually drunk in calm moments like these or in parties where he felt he was forced to do so. 

“Do you drink often?” 

Karl shook his head. “Only when I am stressed or nervous.” He took another gulp, it spoke volumes. 

“I can’t imagine you could get _that_ stressed. You’re rich, you don’t have much to worry about.” Stephen didn’t notice the way his friend’s face curled into a glare the more he spoke. “I think you overreact sometimes.” 

It took him a few moments before he finally looked at the man next to him. Karl seemed furious, gripping his bottle tightly in his lap with a clenched jaw. That, or he was seconds away from crying. Stephen felt guilty either way. 

“What do you mean?” 

Stephen swallowed. “I was just saying that others might have it worse.” He was trying to keep his voice leveled and calm, but it all came out like a mumble. “You’re rich and you’re eighteen. You can just leave your house and buy a yacht and fuck off.”

He’d meant it as a lighthearted joke, but Karl wasn’t laughing.

“You don’t know _anything_ about me.” His words slipped out of his lips through gritted teeth. “Don’t you understand that I am here because someone tried to kill me? Because I had a gun to my head?”  

Stephen held up his hands, trying to ease the tension. “Karl, I-” 

“People in my country hate me for something my grandfather did, for his idiotic ideas, and they all expect me to follow in his path. It is not my choice, I have never been allowed to make any meaningful sort of choice! Do you know how pathetic it is that  _ you  _ are my first friend?” Karl reached over and grabbed Stephen by his shirt collar, their faces inches apart. He’d fantasized about this before, in his dreams, but not like this. Not with Karl gritting out scathing words right at him. “My status has brought me nothing but pain.”

He could feel fingertips press against his arm, almost crushing the bones in his wrists. “I had a gun to my head and no one cared. I was being used for ransom but my kidnappers obviously assumed that my family would actually give a _fuck_ about me. I was there for hours!” 

Stephen stammered, trying to wriggle away. “Karl, please, you’re-” 

“You have the perfect family, the perfect life. Pretty, white boy who will end up becoming a rich likable doctor while I only have the option of becoming a politician or letting myself  _ die.” _

A whimper escaped his lips, it snapped the man out of his fury. “Karl, you’re hurting me.”

The hands over his wrists was gone, as if Karl had flinched away at his words. 

Stephen gulped and wished that he would have swallowed his words back then. God, he was a tactless idiot. He’d forgotten the entire reason why Karl was here in the first place -- the fake name, the remote location. If he wasn’t here, he’d probably be dead. And the fact that it seemed like Karl wouldn’t mind dying terrified him.

The Romanian looked out the window again. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, ridding himself of the hurt he’d just caused.

Stephen’s wrist ached, it’ll surely bruise and stay that way for a while. 

“Karl, you okay?” He asked.

Nothing from Karl. No words, no looks, not a single movement that could tell him whether or not he even heard him speak. 

_Fine_. He grabbed his phone and another bottle of beer and left the car, closing the door behind him. Stephen sat in the discolored hood of his car and allowed Karl to do whatever he wanted to do back in his seat. At times like these, he wished he smoked more often, ‘cause the beer didn’t feel like it was doing his job.  

He rested his body against the glass, laying down as comfortably as he could and turned on some music. His eyes were closed, he didn’t want to look at the stars, he was supposed to be doing that with his friend. 

This night was turning out to be a disaster. 

He didn’t know how much time passed between then and this moment. It could have been minutes, could have been more than an hour. All he heard was a car door being opened then closed. Stephen paused the music in his phone, yet didn’t look at the other man. 

“Stephen. I am so sorry.”  

His voice sounded cracked and slurred. Stephen sat up, he wasn’t expecting that. 

The Romanian continued, “I shouldn’t have hurt you. I’m sorry -- I’m so sorry.” He was drunk, or most likely tipsy. After waiting from a response from Stephen and not getting one, Karl stepped closer to the car, a hand against the headlight to steady himself. “I’m turning into them, I am turning into my grandfather. Oh god. Stephen, I’m sorry.”  

As angry as he was, he wasn’t heartless. Stephen scooted over and placed a hand on Karl’s waist and another on the nape of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. The other man didn’t hug back but pressed his hands against his chest. He was breathing heavily into his shoulder. “I let my anger get the best of me. I will never do that again, I promise you.” His voice was still cracked, he was possibly trying not to cry. “I shouldn’t have hurt you.” 

“Hey, it’s really not that serious. It isn’t that bad...” Stephen began. He was trying to look for the right words. “But you’re better than them, you’re actually a good guy.” 

Karl became tense against him, he continued. “You hurt me and I said something stupid. We’re both stupid teenagers that don’t know how to actually say things -- doesn’t make us bad people.” 

He heard a sigh, a sniffle. Karl’s hair smelled clean, his skin smelled like expensive cologne.  

“You’re smart, talented, good at everything. You can be whatever you want to be.” 

“I can’t... My family-”  

Stephen hated how defeated Karl sounded.  

“Fuck your family. If they can’t appreciate you, they don’t deserve you.” 

This time, the man moved away from his chest and looked at Stephen. He had his hands placed on either side of Karl’s hips. “They are my blood, I can’t simply abandon them.” 

“Family isn’t always blood.”  

Karl huffed, “What do you know?” 

He had a point, he didn’t. Stephen’s family, by all accounts, was good and kind and picture perfect, the sort of family that he’d read in a novel -- two kids, big house, picket fence. They used to have a dog and everything. At the very least, he’s had Donna by his side since he was four. Karl had no one. 

The two stayed silent, but the quiet seemed louder than anything else they had said. Perhaps because of their heartbeats, or the low, still playing music in the radio. Karl was clenching and unclenching his hands against his lap, probably some sort of habit.  

“Do they hit you?” He asked. He wasn’t sure if it was right to even think of that possibility. 

Karl paused. “No, not that often. Hurtful words but... they mean well. They want what is best for me.” His voice sounded so small, this wasn’t the Karl he’d grown to know.  

Karl was about to speak again, about to come up with some other inane excuse for his family’s abuse. Stephen wasn’t going to have any of it.

Without a second thought, he pressed his lips to Karl’s. This time, the other man didn’t look away, but he didn’t move either, mouth ajar and staring in shock.  

When he did part from the kiss, the first thing he saw was Karl wiping his lips and his nose, sniffing softly. “Oh god--” 

Stephen panicked. “Was that... not good?” 

He assumed Karl was going to start freaking out about his family somehow finding out he’d been kissed by another man through telepathy, or something. Or it’ll earned him a well-deserved punch in the face. Instead, Karl covered his own mouth with his palm, hiding it from Stephen. “I-I wouldn’t know. That was my first.” He said, voice stammering and muffled. 

“‘Course it was.” He nudged closer, placing a hand on Karl’s thigh. “Do you want to try again?” 

“Why? It was bad.” He sounded embarrassed.  

He moved Karl’s hand out of the way -- he had his eyes tightly shut and his lips puckered for a kiss. Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Relax, let me show you.” 

It took a moment but Karl did as told, shoulders lowered and lips slightly open but his eyes were still shut tight. He pressed his thumb to Karl’s plump bottom lip and kissed his again, slowly and softer. He swore he felt Karl gasp against him. 

The man’s hands held him by his shirt sleeves, keeping him close. Stephen didn’t actually know what to do with his hands so he simply placed them on either of Karl’s thighs, moving higher up his legs. 

Karl pulled away, giving him the sort of look he’d seen so many times before. The look that made him knew he got them, half-lidded and lustful and begging for another kiss. Stephen obliged and slipped his tongue into Karl’s mouth. This time, Karl didn’t gasp -- he actually _whimpered_ , and it was adorable. 

It was sloppy, open mouthed and trying far too hard to be passionate. It was uncoordinated and new and embarrassing and raw -- until they ended up pressed up against each other laying on the hood of the car, Stephen on top of him, hands roaming every part of them.

 

They have no idea how long they stayed like that, two parts of one messy, awkward, hormone controlled whole. It wasn’t until Karl gently pushed him off by his shoulders, looking more sober than before. He was panting and staring up at him, spit shining the corner of his mouth. Stephen cleaned it off with his sleeve.  

“Stephen...” He was breathless yet still so tense beneath him. Had he done something wrong? 

The American cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was.... um--” He had no idea how to respond. 

Karl wriggled under him. “No, no. It is not --” He but his lip. “My ass is too warm from the engine.” 

They both fell silent, an incoming dread hit them in waves that this would somehow be ruined, that it was a mistake, but uncontrollable laughter escaped from their lips until they both fell from the car, still wrapped together like a ball of yarn, giggling at the ridiculousness of it all.  

“Is it colder now?” Stephen said in between his giggles. 

Karl held his hand to his mouth, laughing like princesses do in movies. “Not really.” He’d just now noticed that the man has done that every single time he’d seen him laugh. It was so adorable, so prim and proper, Stephen couldn’t stand it. 

Eventually it died down, both of them were laying of the grass looking up at the stars, shoulders touching but hands still fumbling against their chest or on the side of their hips.  

“You were right, the stars are beautiful here.” Karl spoke with a smile on his voice. “But I’m guessing you didn’t actually bring me here to watch them, did you?” 

Stephen hummed innocently. “It’s like a romantic movie, isn’t it?” 

“Like that one scene in La La Land.” 

Immediately, Stephen waggled his eyebrows and looked at him. Karl didn’t have to look back to know what he was about to say. “I am not dancing.” 

“Yeah, yeah. All right.” 

He didn’t know what to do. Usually the people he made out weren’t rich European aristocrats. What the hell was the etiquette for these situations? Did they have to wait for marriage now? Did it not even apply since Karl was a man? _Fuck_ , Stephen couldn’t move. 

Karl turned to him. He looked shy again, Stephen didn’t understand why. All of the sudden, he had a hand on his chest and a pair of lips pressed against his own in a chaste kiss. 

“Could we move somewhere more private?” His voice was shaking, and this time it wasn’t because of the alcohol in their system.  

“We’re in a hill all alone, no one’s gonna see us.” 

Karl pursed his lips. “I don’t want to be out in the open when we... do something.”  

Stephen would have sex in a barn if it meant he could get laid, he had before, but Karl had actual standards and expectations that most boys their age didn’t have. He stood up and helped Karl into the backseat of his car. Right, time to impress. 

The Romanian seemed even more tense than before, clearly trying to hide any sort of nervousness beneath the stoic expression he put on. He sat crossed legged beside the window, hands threaded together on his lap, as if he wasn‘t about to get his dick sucked on the back of of a car. 

Well, that was the plan, anyway. Stephen sat next to him and cleared his throat.  

Before he could even touch the other man, Karl spoke up. “Stephen, I... I am sorry.” 

“Hey, it’s fine now.” He placed a gentle hand on the other man’s cheek. “Seriously, don’t worry.”  

“No, it is not. You have treated me with nothing but kindness and I yelled at you for no reason.”  

“Well, I did say something really stupid. Probably won’t be the last time I do.”  

Karl tilted his head and leaned against the palm of his hand. Tentatively, carefully -- it may have been the first time he’d ever been treated this gently by someone who wasn’t in his family. And even then Stephen doubted that there was any sort of gentleness in that home.  

“I didn’t want to come here at first. I thought it would be boring and a waste of a summer. I thought... that I would have much rather die.”  

Stephen remembered the time Donna came into his room in the middle of the night, sobbing that she felt like she wanted to die, all because of some girls in her class that were targeting her. It had been terrifying, she was only twelve, far too young to be thinking about that sort of thing. Even then, he felt that Karl was too young and too good, he didn’t deserve any of it. Stephen didn’t deserve him. 

“Then I met you and your wonderful family. You became my first friend.” He breathed out. Karl wasn’t making eye contact, it must be hard for him to admit this. “All I can say is thank you. Thank you...” 

He leaned his forehead against Karl’s, both of them breathing in deeply before kissing once more. It was less awkward this time, a softer kiss with the barest grazing of tongue, mostly on Stephen’s part. Karl allowed him to take the lead with the kiss, his pliant, full lips gasping against his own. He stopped, studied, then imitated when Stephen had just done and somehow did it better.

Stephen hadn’t noticed that Karl was straddling his hips now, sitting on top of his lap with an already quite prominent hard on from just a simple kiss. Fingertips ghosted over the front of his jeans and he debated whether or not he should take off the man’s shirt or unbutton his pants and swallow him down. 

The Romanian pulled away, still on his lap eyeing the way both of their clothed erections were barely grazing each other. Stephen gave him a smirk and moved his hips until they were pressing against each other. The gasp that escaped Karl’s throat was his new favorite sound. 

“Stephen, wait--”  

He groaned, was Karl going to give another speech or something?  

“I have... never done this before.” Karl admitted. He was received with an eye-roll.

“Duh, that’s obvious.” Stephen said with a slight grin on his face. That was received with a glare.

The American continued. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’ll just stick it in your ass in the back of my car, I have a bit more tact than that.” He didn’t, actually, but he could at least try to impress the guy. “Relax, I’ll be good to you. You do want this, right?” 

After a pregnant pause, Karl nodded. His hands were firmly situated on Stephen’s shoulders, he probably didn’t know what to do with them.  

“You do jack off, right? Or else this’ll end faster than I think it will.”  

“ _Jack off_?”  

Stephen snorted. “Do you masturbate?” 

If Karl were pale, he’d probably be beet red. “Um -- Yes.” 

“Then you got nothing to worry about. Just let me know if you want to stop.” He looked up at his friend’s face, seeing the way his somehow perfect skin glowed in the moment, and gulped before he helped Karl out of his shirt.  

Without stalling any longer, Stephen pressed his lips to Karl’s chest, holding him steady with his hands on the small of his back. He licked and kissed at one of his nipples, looking up to watch the man’s reaction. Apart from a shaky breath, it didn’t seem to do much effect. He moved to nip at Karl’s jaw and found the exact reaction he’d been looking for. The man on top of him whimpered and tilted his head for more, causing Stephen to kiss the expanse of his neck. He used the opportunity to begin unbuttoning both of their jeans. 

Karl, of course, was wearing very expensive looking tight boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination, his cock looked fully hard and already leaking pre-cum and staining the fabric. He lowered Karl’s jeans down to his knees and palmed the man through the fabric.  

There was a jerk of his hips, a low, blissful groan that tumbled from Karl’s lips. He said something in a language Stephen couldn’t recognize, probably a curse of a plea. Stephen pressed a finger to his covered slit and continued to tease him and enjoyed the other noises that became louder with each second. 

They stopped. Karl bit his lower lip and hid his face on the crook of Stephen’s neck. The poor guy was so sensitive right now, he was probably embarrassed by the sounds he was making. It was endearing. 

Tired of teasing, Stephen finally lowered the man’s underwear and licked his lips at the sight of Karl’s dripping, hard cock. It was like this all because of him, and god, was it stroking his ego. Stephen took his cock in his hand and gave it an experimental stroke. He wished he could see Karl’s face right now, all he could feel was a shuddering breath against his skin, a quick kiss to his jaw.  

“Yeah, that feels better than your hand, doesn’t it?” Stephen started with slow strokes of his palm, licking it at times so it would be easier for him. Karl nodded desperately and began to buck his hips into his touch. “I’ll make you feel so good, Karl. Just relax and trust me.” 

At the words, Stephen felt the body on top of him almost melt at his touch, any remaining tension gone and replaced by genuine awe at the pleasure he felt. If Karl was really this new to it all then all Stephen would be thinking about for the next two months will be all the different ways they can fuck. He pressed his thumb to the underside of his cock, right below the head, and heard a low groan against his neck. Stephen licked his thumb and continued to stroke that one spot that was making Karl’s thighs tremble as he tried to keep himself steady. 

“So much,” he heard Karl gasp out, “it is _so much_.” Stephen was pretty sure he was drooling into his t-shirt. He stopped to unbutton his own jeans before he ruined them. Karl noticed and scooted his hips until they couldn’t be closer -- heated, dripping flesh moving against one another. Stephen held his friend by his hips and moved until they were laying on the backseat, Karl pinned beneath him as he took both of their cocks in his hand.  

This time, Karl couldn’t hide his face. All he could do was cover his mouth with the back of his hand as Stephen’s thumb makes circles around his wet slit. He trusted upwards, back arching and breathing growing fast and ragged. Stephen licked his lips when he heard Karl babble something out in Romanian, small groans that made him want to fuck the man right then and there. He leaned down to kiss him, Karl wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“Tell me when you’re close.” He said. Karl nodded but it looked as if his head was swimming, like there wasn’t enough air in the car and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

He felt the man tense beneath him, biting his lips so hard it looked like they were going to bleed. Karl moved his hips along with Stephen’s hand, desperately looking for enough friction to finish. “S-Stephen,” his accent shined stronger as he struggled to let out a single word, “I’m close. So close. _Please_.”  

With one last choked back plea, Karl almost screamed as his orgasm hit. He absentmindedly pressed his mouth to Stephen’s shirt, muffled sounds drowning out any other thought in his head. Stephen continued to stroke himself, leaking pre-cum on Karl’s stomach and then came shortly after with a hiss. At the sight of Karl wide-eyed and covered in their cum, Stephen was sure he would get hard again in mere seconds.  

Stephen took off his shirt to clean up the trembling man. Poor kid, this was definitely the first time he’d ever been touched this way. When the cloth grazed his cheek, cleaning off the last remaining stain, he noticed that there were tears welling up on the corner of Karl’s eyes. 

“Thank you.” He said in a small voice, Stephen only smiled in return. “That was... intense.” 

Karl sat up and wrapped his arms around himself. Maybe he was cold, maybe he was embarrassed. “Well, it’ll just get more intense as we keep doing stuff. It’ll be fun.” He pressed a kiss to the other man’s cheek but didn’t get any response. “Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?” 

With a half-hearted sigh, Karl looked away. “No, no... It was good, very good but I -- I always thought my first time would be more... um--” 

“Romantic?”

Karl nodded. Stephen took his hand in his own and kissed his knuckles, his wrist, his arm--making his way up his body until he reached his full lips, still plump and red from all the friction and biting. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. That is, if you want to continue this?” 

They were both well aware of the meaning behind the question and how this would all eventually come crashing down by the end of the summer. It wouldn’t be Stephen’s first summer sweetheart but Karl will definitely become the only one he will ever remember. Perhaps the most important one, the one that got away. If that wasn’t romantic then love might at well be dead. He wiped off a tear that escaped Karl’s eyes and was making it’s way down his cheek.  

The Romanian smiled, but it seemed slightly sad. He must be thinking the same thing. “Yes, I would like that.”

Stephen grinned. “Good, or else I just ruined my favorite Deff Leppard shirt for nothing.” That earned him an elbow to his arm, which only made him laugh.  

“You are ridiculous.” 

He winked. “Ridiculously sexy?”  

Karl giggled, real and genuine, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Stephen had just _defiled_ a European aristocrat in the back of his car like a fucking _Disney_ channel movie. Except those usually don’t have gay sex scenes. Scratch that, this was more like one of those _Lifetime_ movies his mom watched. 

And right when Stephen could officially admit that he might be head over heels, he noticed Karl had dimples when he smiled.  

They dressed themselves again, Karl was grimacing the entire time at the smell of sweat and sex that was stuck to their clothes and claimed that he would do the washing, he didn’t want Beverley to see their clothes at this state. The drove back home in comfortable silence, or at least it was comfortable on Stephen’s end, maybe because he was still smiling dumbly in the afterglow no matter how sore his legs and arm felt. The miles and miles of corn fields seemed to have Karl’s attention again--he was looking away, Stephen hoped he had a smile on his face too. 

They waited at the stoplight. It was still nighttime but he could see the hint of dawn peeking through the horizon. He wondered if Karl had ever stayed up this late. 

Just as he was going to reach to turn on the radio for some mindless music, Karl placed a hand over his own and squeezed. 

“Everything all right?” 

He paused. “What are we now, Stephen?” 

It was a loaded question, definitely one he didn’t feel prepared to answer at three in the morning. “Whatever you want us to be--boyfriends, partners, friends. What do you think we are?” 

He waited for an answer and was met with silence. The light was still red, but there was no car in sight, so he drove on. Stephen half-expected to get scolded by Karl because of it but the man continued to be quiet, still looking at the fields they passed by. 

No one noticed them leaving, apparently. The first time he ever did this with Wong he came back to his dad sitting on the porch with his shotgun. Needless to say he’d been scared shitless, but it was just a tactic he used to scare his son into not doing it again. It didn’t work, obviously, but he’d been paranoid ever since. 

They made their way up the stairs to their respective rooms, careful not to wake anyone up. Faint noise was coming from Donna’s room, she must be up late watching something on her laptop. Stephen was about to open the door to his room when Karl stopped him, leaning against his own. 

“I think I know what we are.” His voice was barely a whisper, he had to get close in order to say it. 

Stephen raised an eyebrow, “what are we?” 

Karl stepped back and opened the door to his room, still facing him. Maybe one day he’ll be able to go inside with him for some _privacy_. “We are a moment.”  

The door closed in his face before Stephen could ask anything else. He supposed there was a deeper meaning to the words, but his brain wasn’t working its gears well enough to consider them. He sighed and slumped on his bed. Stephen hoped he dreamed of stars.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys try out some new things. Karl receives a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter ended up being longer than i expected! enjoy!!
> 
>  **WARNING** : brief mention of child abuse
> 
> Also, [here](https://twitter.com/shitlockposting/status/841868810936287232) is a drawing I made of a specific scene in this chapter.

For some reason, Karl had imagined his first time having sex would be more... poetic.

He’d watched porn before, tried not to do so that often, but once he got his own credit card when he was thirteen he immediately bought a subscription to one of those premium porn sites where everything was in high definition and proper lighting. If he was going to watch two strangers having sex, it should at least be nicely filmed. He enjoyed the way they actors made love in a huge, plush bed, smiling and practically wide eyed at the pleasure. He liked watching them cum together, kisses and  _ I love you _ ’s being pressed against skin like a mantra. The romance and intimacy to it was what really made him want to stick his hand down his pants, but watching one of the men writhe with pleasure, muscles contracting as he spread his legs to allow the other man’s cock inside him, cum staining his chest and dripping down his hole was very nice to watch as well. 

It may or may not originally scared Karl at first, the odds of ever actually doing  _ any _ of the things he saw in porn seemed zero to none, but now he had a... partner. Another boy who was actually interested in him. It all felt so new and idyllic he couldn’t help but fantasize about the possibilities. Picnics in the fields, dancing in the moonlight -- all of those romantic things Karl read about in his literature classes and old movies. 

He hadn’t expected, well... this. 

Ever since the night they spent together in the hill, everything has felt different in a subtle, quiet way. The world shifted and both of them felt it. There were more lingered looks, more excuses to spend time together with the animals or walking around the town. When their hands brushed together it would always be on purpose, Karl could feel a lingering sensation in his fingertips whenever it happened. It was all new for him, he wasn’t used to the feeling, he still wasn’t sure if he enjoyed the way his emotions would pour from the surface whenever Stephen was around. 

Yet there were moments that weren’t subtle all. When it was just them, all alone and miles away from anyone else, or hidden in the deepest depths of a corn field, Stephen would be anything  _ but  _ subtle. There would always be a hand on him, roaming lower down his back to cup his ass, or a surprise kiss to his neck. The man had no sort of shame and would be perfectly fine with having sex in the middle of an open field. Karl doubted it would be the first time.

After realizing how rushed their time in the car had been, Stephen did his best to teach him about the basics, slow and steady so Karl wouldn’t feel so overstimulated like their first time. It didn’t work, not entirely, Karl still finished too quickly and let out noises he never thought he could make, but Stephen only brushed it off with a laugh. Handjobs and blowjobs seemed nice in theory but he never expected it to be so good... or difficult.

Karl wasn’t a religious man, no matter how much his school and his family tried for him to be, but he couldn’t help but think about how horrified they would be if they knew what he was up to in America. He wondered if God would even mind.

He accepted every touch, melted into every kiss like a besotted fool. If his grandfather saw the state he was in, he would be disowned, and not just for kissing a man, but for acting like the weakest of the two. The thought of his grandfather’s reaction always loomed in the back of his head no matter what he did.

But he enjoyed it. He trusted Stephen just enough to allow him to take charge. If he was talented at anything, it was this. With his plump, heart-shaped lips and large, slender hands, the man knew exactly what he was doing. And Karl felt like a fumbling idiot every time they touched. Stephen didn’t seem to mind at all, if anything he got off at his inexperience.

He definitely had no prior experience having his cock in another man’s mouth. Not had he ever expected his first time doing this in the middle of a corn field. As talented as Stephen was, he had no inkling of romance.

This was not what he originally had in mind.

“St-Stephen, wait.” The paranoia of being found was ruining the arousal of it all, even if he’d been hard since the moment that Stephen slipped a hand underneath his pants. 

Now they were thrown away, covered in dirt. He should have brought more.

Stephen opened his eyes and let go of his cock with a pop, spit dripping from his chin. “What’s wrong?”

He whined. “Someone will find us. And this is incredibly unsanitary.”

“Babe, I’ve done this a bunch of times, no one goes in here at this time of year.” 

Surprisingly enough, Stephen had been kind enough to lend him his jacket and a blanket so he didn’t have to sit or rest his hand in dirt. Not the jacket covered in pins, though, Stephen would have let Karl fall into a pit of mud before ruining that.

“I don’t feel comfortable doing this here. In a cornfield, it is disgusting.” 

He watched Stephen roll his eyes and sigh. Karl bit his lip in return. It seemed that his all had been a waste. Had he ruined this already?

He tucked in his cock, which was still frustratingly half hard, and started to look for his pants. They were ruined, obviously, he’ll make Stephen clean them somehow as payback. He put them on anyway, dreading the way they looked. 

“Think of all the animals and insects that could bite us while we’re distracted and out in the open. Our first time was already in a car, I don’t want every time to be like this. I want it to be... special.” 

He turned and saw Stephen behind him, arms crossed and with a wicked smile on his face. “Jesus, you're uptight.”

“I am  _ not _ uptight, I simply have high standards and I do not wish to be taken so close to your home.”

They were just a short walk through the corn to Stephen’s house, a random worker could walk in at any minute. Still, Stephen didn’t care in the slightest, and simply walked over to him and bowed. “Of course, your highness.” 

“Stop that, it isn’t funny.” 

The man decided to put on a very bad, very exaggerated British accent. “Of course, my lord, your wish is my command. ‘Tis a pity what falls for comedy nowadays.”

Karl gritted his teeth. “You are ridiculously immature. I am only being reasonable.”

“Of course, Master Mordo. Would you like me to escort you back to your estate?” 

He decided it was better off to ignore the man and let him continue his ridiculous charade. Karl nodded and started to make his back to the house, until he felt an arm wrap around his waist. 

The man picked him up. Actually picked him up, like one would carry their bride. He’d figured he would have more trouble carrying him but all the years working in a farm had made Stephen stronger than he seemed. Not to mention that Karl was slightly shorter than most boys his age while Stephen was already tall, he didn’t need to be reminded of that. 

“Let go of me, you idiot!” He practically growled, Stephen continued to carry him.

“Why? If I let you go, your shoes will come in contact with my peasant dirt.”

“Stephen, I never meant it like that. Damn it!” 

In other circumstances, he would have enjoyed this sort of attention from the man very much. Now it was just embarrassing and patronizing, especially when they entered the house to find that Beverly was right there, in the kitchen. He tensed in Stephen’s arms but the man seemed as relaxed as ever.

She smiled at them, looking just the slightest bit confused. “Hi, boys. Everything all right?”

Karl covered his face with his hands. Stephen answered instead. “Oh, Karl hurt his foot so I’m gonna go and patch him up. I left the first aid kit in my room.”

He scoffed but didn’t say anything. The last thing he wanted was to drag Beverly into her son’s antics.

“Oh dear. I hope you’re alright, Karl. Good thing you have your own personal doctor!”

“Lucky me.” He mumbled.

Stephen even carried him up the stairs, he stopped protesting as he watched him struggled after a few steps. It would be funny to watch the man try to prove his point so badly if it wasn’t so annoying. Karl raised an eyebrow at him, “What are you trying to prove?” 

He huffed, panting at the effort. “That this dumb farm boy has a few tricks up his sleeve.”

Stephen kicked open the door to his room and finally let him go. Karl stumbled for a moment to regain balanced and looked back to see that the other man was gasping for air and drenched in sweat. Stephen took off his shirt, cleaned up his face and threw it to the ground. He was smiling back at him. 

Needless to say, it was a very pleasant sight to see. 

“Seriously, Stephen, what are you up to? Are you angry?”

“Nope. You didn’t want to make out in the dirt, so I’m gonna make out with you in my bed.” He was being pushed into the mattress now, words escaped his throat as Stephen straddled his hips. “Sorry I don’t have silk sheets, thought.”

He snorted, the man could be so petty. “I am fine without silk sheets, just kiss me, you idiot.”

Stephen did, taking no time to go slowly and tenderly at first. He kissed him until it made Karl moan, until they were both breathless and writhing against each other again. Hands roamed under his shirt, simply touching him and urging to take off his shirt. Karl obliged, leaving them both chest to chest, hips moving against each other through their jeans.

They parted, lips plump and ridiculously covered in saliva. He... may have gotten a bit too excitable at the prospect of kissing so much and so often, yet Stephen didn’t seem to mind.  

“Can I touch you again?” Stephen asked, his hands already undoing his zipper anyway.

Karl nodded, this was still all new to him and appreciated that Stephen allowed them to go slow. Except the man was pulling down his jeans and his pants, leaving him completely nude. He almost covered himself up. “Wait, what are you--” 

“I wanna eat you out.” 

Karl’s brain felt as if it short-circuited. 

“Eat me... out?”

That earned him another kiss, Stephen probably thought he was being cute, but Karl truthfully did not understand what the man meant. They looked at each other and Stephen finally noticed his raised eyebrows and the sweat on his temple. “What?” He asked again.

“Y’know, eat you out. Put my tongue inside you.” Stephen laughed. “Analingus.”

It was like a light bulb was turned on above his head then immediately shattered. The disgust spread across his face made Stephen laugh harder. “Gross!”

“Karl, come on. You’ve seen porn before right? You’ve definitely seen another guy get eaten out.”

“I always skipped that part! It is disgustingly unsanitary.” Karl crossed his arms and legs, not allowing Stephen any closer to his cock.

The American didn’t seem perturbed, if anything, he was seeing it as a challenge and kept looming over him like a fox. He looked to the side, thankful that the heat rising to his cheeks didn’t show. It wasn’t like he was trying to stop him, either. 

“You sure you don’t want to know what it’s like?” He asked, voice low and rough against his ear. He felt his cock twitch in interest against his navel, betraying him. “Having my tongue against you, licking you open?”

Karl gulped. “You are very confident for someone our age.” 

Stephen pressed a kiss to his cheek, his neck, making his way down his chest. “I’ve done it once or twice before. My tongue and my fingers are the reason my ex’s tolerated me.”

“That isn’t exactly reassuring.”

He was holding his knees now, not moving them apart, almost as if he was waiting for Karl to finally give him. And he was, the man made him so weak. Curse his virginal self, his curiosity was getting the best of him. “Stephen...”

“Just let me make you feel good, babe.” 

Ah, then there was the occasional pet names. Karl had no idea how he felt about them--he appreciated the sentiment but the one’s Stephen picked were always so... pedestrian. 

“L-Let me wash myself properly first.”  

Karl licked his lips, wondering where all his self-control went, blamed it on his weak, teenage hormones and spread his legs. Stephen pressed a kiss to his inner thigh and gave him a soft spoken ‘ _thank you_ ’ that made it all worth it. 

He picked up his pants again and shirt, hastily putting them on before running to the bathroom. Karl closed the door behind him in a panic. Oh Christ, he was actually going to do this. 

This was... a much more advanced step, far more than he ever expected to get. He pulled out his phone and looked up the basics of the act, heart beating faster and faster the more he read. According to actual experienced men on the internet, it was much more pleasing than he expected. He still told himself it was disgusting, that he would never do it, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. 

Right, hygiene first. Karl took off his clothes again and stepped into the shower, not caring how long Stephen would have to wait. If he was so keen on doing this, he could respect Karl’s wishes to at least make this as pleasing as possible.  

He’d never dressed and undressed himself so many time in a single day. Karl was starting to understand just why Stephen liked wearing as little clothes as possible at all times. 

When he returned, clean as ever and still slightly damp from trying to dry himself so quickly, Stephen was laying on the bed with a smirk on his face, music playing loudly in the background. “This romantic enough for you?" 

As much as he’d learned to enjoy Marvin Gaye, the whole scene couldn’t be more cheesy. He couldn’t help but smile just a bit. “It’s good enough.”

Stephen ruffled his hair, which was slowly growing longer than he’s had it in many years. He was so used to getting the same close cut every time, he rather liked it just a bit longer. Karl felt a kiss pressed to his shoulder, along with a soft voice he could listen to for hours. “Get on your stomach while I lock the door.”

It took him a moment why Stephen asked that until realization finally hit his brain. He nodded even if the man didn’t see him and turned around. He grabbed on to the nearest pillow, his head turned to look at wall. His cock was still as interested in what was about to happen as he was nervous. A cold, large hand rested against his waist, he heard Stephen gasp.

“Holy shit,” the man sounded breathless, he wanted to see him so badly. “You look real good like this. I should take a picture to make it last longer.”

Karl snarled. “Don’t you  _ dare _ .”

“Just joking, don’t worry.” Stephen couldn’t stop touching him. Karl hugged his pillow tighter. “You have a great ass, you know that?” 

“I-I..” Karl wasn’t used to praise, especially this kind of praise. He had no idea what to say, he wasn’t exactly used to being seen as attractive. “Stephen...”

“Relax, babe. It’ll feel weird at first. If you don’t like it just say something and I’ll stop.” Stephen pressed another kiss to his cheek. He could feel the man’s clothed cock press against his bare behind as he did so and all Karl could do was imagine the inevitable moment when it went inside him someday.  

He placed his hands on either of Karl’s cheeks and spread him apart. He’s never felt this exposed, this _bare_ , his heart was beating against the mattress. Oh god, this was really happening. 

Without another word, Stephen kissed him one more time on his lower back before he licked a stripe against his entrance. Karl almost doubled over into the bed. He was sure Stephen was smiling at the sight, enjoying his sensitivity, and licked him again, still holding him open and trying to  _ get him open. _ He already felt lightheaded at the thought of Stephen fucking him this way, he couldn’t believe he doubted the man. He was right, it was an odd feeling at first, but it didn’t stop him from gasping at the sensation. It felt so  _ strange _ and  _ new  _ and  _ good. _

Karl almost whined into the pillow but he kept his mouth shut, hyper aware that Mrs. Strange could still be downstairs. That Donna was in her room beside them, watching television loudly. He bucked his hips experimentally against the bedsheets, craving any sort of friction to his cock. Stephen was still moving his tongue against him, groaning and mostly likely touching himself from the act. It was too much,  _ too much,  _ he was going to finish just from this.

“St-Stephen, please--” He whispered, moving back against the man’s tongue. He didn’t know what he was even asking for, all he knew was that he wanted more. “ _Haide._ Harder. Christ.” 

He was always told by his teachers never to use God’s name in vain. If he’d ever done anything blasphemous, it was certainly this. “Oh _god.”_  

Stephen was fucking him with his tongue. He should feel disgusted at the thought, pathetic at how out of control he was, but his head was swimming in all the pleasure, how was he supposed to focus on anything except the feel of the other man inside him. He bucked his hips into the bed over and over, feeling as if he was about to burst. “Stephen. Stephen. _Stephen.”_  

He man raised his hips, Karl immediately whimpered at the loss of friction and spread his legs. Except now Stephen was stroking him, fast and messy and perfect. Karl tightened his grip on the pillow, biting back every sound he desperately wanted to make and settling on soft, shallow breaths. 

Karl buried his face into the mattress as he came, any sound he made came out muffled, thankfully ignored over the television show that Donna watched next door. “Christ. Fuck--” He panted and realized he had finished into Stephen’s bedsheets. “Oh, Stephen. I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Whatever apology he was going to give was interrupted by the American’s lips against his. He was still in his jeans, still straining against them. 

“Don’t fucking apologize, that was hot as hell.”

He was suddenly reminded where Stephen’s lips had just been and grimaced. “Stop kissing me this instant.”

Stephen only giggled in response. His cheeks were pink and his lips were shining with spit; he looked absolutely delectable, Karl couldn’t believe his luck. 

“You’re a cute bottom, y’know that?”

Finally regaining his breath, Karl went back to his ever-present frown. “I am not... that.” 

“You are. You should hear yourself sometimes, you make real cute noises. One of these days, we’ll do it somewhere private where you can be as loud as you want.” That earned him a kiss on his nose, but Karl was still frowning.  

Just then, he realized the man was right. All the times they indulged in acts like these, he’d been the submissive one, panting and begging Stephen to touch him or to go harder. 

Karl needed to take a stand, to make the first move for once. Maybe then Stephen wouldn’t act like he was in charge of it all. 

Christ, the man created a monster inside him, because Karl had never felt this gnawing need to be intimate all the time, a never ending craving for physical contact. He was touch starved, really.  

“Let me help you finish in return. I’ll show you just how  _ submissive _ I am.”

The American raised his eyebrows and sat back against the wall behind them, eager to see whatever Karl had in store. 

Karl didn’t waste any time and tried to be the one to commence the act. Stephen would always be the one to take charge and treat him gently, teasing him. Karl wasn’t interested in any sort of teasing, he wanted something and he wanted it now.

He settled between Stephen’s legs and began to undo his jeans. He was met with stutters and hands trying to cover his own. “Woah, woah--Karl, what are you doing?” 

Oh, dear. “Did you not want this?” He asked, becoming increasingly nervous with each second.

“I mean, yeah but you usually never seem so... into doing stuff yourself. I usually do all the work. Sucking dick is harder than it looks, baby.” There was no sort of nervousness in his voice, only the constant amused tone and half grin that was always stuck to his face. 

If Karl wasn’t so horny already he’d argue with him.

The Romanian said nothing and continued to lower Stephen’s trousers. Always relaxed, Stephen placed a hand behind his head, his free hand on Karl’s nape, not pulling him forwards or pressuring him, perhaps it was for reassurance. It was obvious that he’d never done this before, he toyed with the idea of practicing with a banana or with his own fingers, but it felt beneath him. Part of him regretted going in blindly, but Karl only gulped as he lowered the front of Stephen underwear. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.

The man’s cock was only half-hard, but growing more interested with every breath Karl let out against his skin. He moved closer, until he was laying comfortably between Stephen’s thighs, a curious tongue peaked out and licked the head. A gasp, a sigh, then Stephen gripped his hair. “That’s it.” 

Karl did it again and again as he tried to get used to the taste and feeling of it all. It wasn’t bad, he didn’t expect it to taste sweet or delicious, his pre-cum felt slightly salty against his tongue. Stephen’s breath hitched and he bit his lips, their eyes locked and steady. “Fuck, I know you’d hate me if I took a picture, but you look so pretty like this.”

With one more stripe of his tongue, Karl wrapped his lips around his cock, head bobbing up and down and only reaching a bit lower than the crown. He was rewarded with a low groan--the man could be so vocal when he wanted to. 

“D-Do... do you think you could go deeper?” His voice was steady with a slight impatient edge to it. Oh, Karl will show him deep. 

He broke eye contact to concentrate, making sure his teeth didn’t accidentally graze or cause the man any pain. He hollowed his cheeks -- at the very least he knew  _ that _ was supposed to feel good -- and pressed his tongue to head of the man’s cock.  Karl pulled back, licked his lips, then swallowed Stephen down with one slick movement.

He liked this much more than he expected to.

The head of the man’s cock twitched against the back of his head, his nose touched the sparse hair on his navel. He heard a surprised yelp come from the other man, an involuntary buck of his hips that Karl didn’t mind. Stephen leaned his head back, he heard a  _ bonk  _ as the man hit the his head against the wall, a litany of swears babbling from his pinks lips. 

Just as he was about to start bobbing his head, Stephen pulled him back by his hair. Karl hissed and looked up to see that the man had lost his previous composure, cheeks red and sheen with sweat, both from the summer heat and his arousal. 

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Karl gave him a frown again. Stephen writhed as he spoke, “Um... You sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Yes, this is my first time.” He made sure to press his lips in a kiss to the head of the man’s cock. 

Stephen looked slack jawed, eyes half-lidded as Karl teasingly licked the slit of his cock while he tried to figure out what to say. “Open your mouth for a second.”

Karl raised an eyebrow but obliged. Two of Stephen’s slender fingers slid inside his mouth, moving slowly, until Stephen was touching the back of his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me you don’t have a gag reflex?”

He shrugged, fingers still down his throat. Stephen shuddered. “Holy fucking shit. Holy shit, Karl. Keep going.”

Karl moved back and let Stephen’s fingers fall from his mouth then dove to swallow Stephen down again. The man’s hand was gripping his hair now, still not trying to guide him but getting impatient.  

A low groan. There was no way Stephen had never received a blowjob before, but was he really that unused to being taken this deep in? All of the people he must have had relations with before were idiots, they had no idea what they were missing. Watching Stephen writhe and sweat and babble under him--it was exhilarating. He was becoming obsessed with sex like all the other boys in his boarding school, except he actually had someone to fuck. Who would have thought that quiet, teacher’s pet Karl would be the one to have an actual boyfriend unlike the other boys who raved about strippers and feeling a breast at parties?  

He allowed himself to be smug, for once. 

He bobbed his head, eyes closed in sensation just by the sheer act. It felt so dirty, so unnecessary. He gained no pleasure in sucking a cock except from his own hand, yet he felt like he was going to drown in arousal. Stephen let out small moans and said his name over and over again, encouraging and praising him. Karl, unused to constant, eager praise, felt his ears burn from the heat of it all. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna... Karl.” Stephen heaved and, finally, pulled his hair back. 

Cum landed on his face, staining his cheeks and lips. Stephen looked down at him, face completely red, and kissed him without caring that he wasn’t clean. It was... disgusting. They pulled apart, Karl wiped his face on Stephen’s jeans as payback. 

“That was real good, Karl. You’re a natural gay.” 

He sat up and raised an eyebrow. “Um... Thank you?” He wasn’t even sure he could label himself as gay just yet. He knew he liked men, but he hadn’t even had sex properly yet. Wasn’t that what would actually make him gay? “What you did was... good. Very good. I wouldn’t be against having it again. But I am not doing it to you!” 

Stephen pulled him closer and laughed. “I didn’t expect you to. I’m fine with getting blowjobs from you forever.” He kissed Karl’s neck, low enough to leave a mark that he could easily hide. “I lucky to have you as my boyfriend.” 

Karl tensed, jumping at the word. “B-Boyfriend?” 

“I mean, yeah. That’s what we are now, right?” Stephen seemed worried. “The whole ‘moment’ thing was cute, but I can’t exactly call you that when I tell other people I’m taken.” 

 _Taken?_ Oh, dear. Karl couldn’t even begin to describe what he was feeling, he never expected it to happen in the first place. “I don’t know about that...” 

“You don’t like it? I can call you something else like... my partner.” Stephen laughed and said it again, this time with an accent. “Howdy, partner.” 

Karl laughed back and shook his head. “No, it’s fine, it’s just... new.” 

Boyfriend--it was such a loaded word. They hadn’t discussed it yet, not properly, but Stephen referred to them as boyfriends when he described the of of them and Karl didn’t correct him. It was still... strange to say out loud. It wasn’t like the word was new to him, he knew how to say it in every language he spoke. _Prieten. Copain. Freund._ It still felt heavy on his tongue whenever he tried to bring up the subject. 

Karl wanted to think of something else. “We are still dirty. And sweaty, shit.” 

Without skipping a beat, Stephen’s mouth curled up. “Do you want to take a shower together?” 

“Donna might hear us.” 

“She doesn’t care. And she won’t, not if we’re quiet.”  

After a pause, Karl nodded and walked up the stairs to their shared bathroom. It was small, certainly smaller than his own back in Romania. They took off what was left of their clothes, thought Karl knew that Stephen was doing his deliberately slow because he was busy staring at his nude body. 

They entered the shower together, cold water hitting them both and causing Stephen to yelp, Karl stayed still. It slowly turned hot, water dripping down their chest and down the drain. He’d never seen Stephen like this before, only ever wet and clothed from washing the goats, but the man didn’t even take a second to admire him before he kissed Karl deeply, pushing him against the wall. For a moment, his mind went blank as he wrapped his arms around Stephen’s neck to keep them close. It was only then that he realized that this was the first time they were both fully nude at the same time. 

“You look really nice like this.” Stephen kissed his cheek as he spoke. 

“What? Naked and wet?” Karl scoffed. 

“I mean, yes. But I like it when you’re like this, all star-eyed and relaxed. You should be like that more often.” Stephen ran a hand down Karl’s chest, feeling sparse hair against his fingertips. 

“You are asking for a lot. I am only that way when I am with you.”  

He didn’t catch the weight of the words until their left his lips. Stephen became wide eyed for a moment, there was a split second in which Karl believed he’d gone too far. Too romantic. But Stephen only kissed him again, hands roaming the expanse of his back, water continuously falling on them. 

Stephen pulled back again and reached for the soap and a towel. “Mind if I wash us?” 

He liked this. He could get used to this very quickly, all this affection and gentleness was intoxicating, with Stephen cleaning his face and neck, with the kisses he left behind on his trail of washed away soap. Karl didn’t know what to do except watch and rest his hands of the man’s shoulders.  

Stephen washed him thoroughly, all the sweat and grime from earlier completely gone. The man even washed his cock, which was already slightly piqued in what was to come, and his behind, much to Stephen’s amusement when he hitched a breath at the touch. 

Admiring his work, the American stepped back and started to wash himself. Karl took the opportunity to get a better too at the man’s body. He was more slender than him, small hips and broad shoulders, arms considerably strong from working around the farm. Karl was strong himself, he frequented a nearby gym back in Romania, and while the constant baked goods he had in America may have rid him of the more defined body he had back home, leaving only a built stomach and chest. He knew Stephen enjoyed his arms the most, feeling and squeezing his biceps out of nowhere.  

A hand with a mind of its own made its way down his chest and to take his cock in his hand, slowly stroking himself as he watched Stephen wash his hair. 

“Enjoying the view?” Stephen teased. Karl only nodded. 

Once finished, Stephen stepped closer again and turned off the water. Cool air hit his skin and he shuddered when Stephen’s warm hands cupped his ass. Karl didn’t know whether or not he should keep going.  

“I wanna try something, you trust me?”  

‘ _Far too much,’_ Karl wanted to say. Instead, he nodded again. Stephen pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder and turned him around, chest and nipples against the cool ceramic tile of the shower.   

For a brief moment, Karl tensed up. “You aren’t going to fuck me here, right?” He didn’t want that here, not in the shower where they could slip and fall.  

Stephen’s fingernails tightened against his hips. “Not in the traditional sense of the word, no. I’m not sticking my cock inside you, just a finger.”

“W-What?” Karl was tense again, he could his full cock again his cleft, Stephen was moving his hips subtly to get some sort of friction. 

“If you don’t want anything, just tell me alright?” He felt a hand leave his hip, silence, then a finger settle in front of his entrance. “Saliva isn’t the best lube but this shouldn’t hurt. Is this okay?” 

Karl breathed out a quick _yes_ and leaned into the touch. It felt so new, so intimate, Karl’s head was swimming just from this.   

“I can’t believe this... We just had sex minutes ago.” He whined.

“We’re eighteen, what the hell did you expect?” Stephen replied with a kiss to the back of his neck.

With one hand on Karl’s cock and one finger slowly pushing inside him, it felt like so much. _So much_ stimulation. It wasn’t much, it felt just like he expected it to feel. The finger felt very strange, but it seemed like Stephen had done this before. He moved it back and forth, getting Karl used to the feeling. He whimpered, muttering Stephen’s name as he tried to compose himself once more.  

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” 

If only Stephen didn’t state the obvious every time they had sex. Of course he enjoyed this, he wished he had more than one finger inside of him. Or not, he would cum instantly. Karl was already close just from a few minutes of this. 

He heard a groan from the man behind him and the finger left his hole, making him feel oddly empty, until he felt something bigger and hotter touch his entrance. Karl let out a panicked whine.

“Shh, shh. I’m not going inside you, just wanna grind against you.” Without further explanation, Stephen parted his cheeks apart and pressed his cock between them, moving his cock against his crack.

It was so filthy and animalistic, Karl almost drooled. Stephen was grinding against him with reckless abandon, he could almost imagine that Stephen was actually inside him, fucking him against the wall, strokes trying to go at the same pace as his hips. Karl whimpered again and tried desperately to find something to grab onto.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you.” Stephen growled, coming a smaller amount of semen to his lower back. “You’re going to love having a cock inside you just like you like it down your throat.”

Karl was openly speaking in Romanian, trying to keep his voice quiet and in control as he grew more desperate. He felt like a whore, like the kind of undignified people his family would warn him about. He was growing fond of it. Karl’s voice cracked as he begged. _“Stefan, te rog. Te rog. Oh Doamne. Stefan...”_  

He came against the shower tile, chest still pressed to it and now heaving for air. “ _ Vie fi moartea de mine...”  _ He mumbled.

Stephen chuckled, Karl wasn’t sure whether or not he understood what he said. Water hit their skin, cleaning away the cum from his body once more. 

He was silent, still panting slightly from the act as Stephen help him get dry and went to get them some clothes. When he returned, Stephen handed him a black t-shirt that said  _ Rush  _ on the front and black underwear with Stephen’s name sewn on the hem. He wasn’t sure if it was because the man was lazy or because of something deeper, but he put it on anyway.

Stephen smirked. “You look nice in my clothes. I like it.” 

Again with the praise. Usually, his grandfather told his parents to avoid to use such language in order to make him work harder for praise he’ll never receive. Stephen gave it away like breathing. Little compliments, the kind that meant nothing at the moment but everything in the end of it all. He will never get used to it.

“That was so fucking hot, we should do that again sometime.” Stephen was wearing a old, grey t-shirt with the state’s name on it and sweatpants without any underwear on. Karl couldn’t phantom the thought. 

“My ass still feels strange--”

“Pun intended?”

Karl rolled his eyes. “I fear using that word around you because of that.”

Two hands settle on his hips. “Yeah, it feels weird the first time. Next time we’ll have lube and stuff and can do everything properly.”

Next time.  _ Next time. _ Stephen was so optimistic about the future. They had time still, a month and a half, but it was still so little. Karl gave him a small smile. “Can next time be in my bed and not against the wall?”

“Ooh, don’t talk like that, you’re just gonna get me all excited again.” Stephen laughed and kissed his temple. 

They stayed in the middle of the bathroom, leaning against each other and counting down the seconds until it became awkward. Karl had two options, either they could walk apart with an uncomfortable ‘ _see you later’_ or ‘ _I have to do something’_ and stay in contemplative solitude until dinner or they could escape together to one of their rooms, unsure of what would do next.

He hated being unsure, but he did enjoy warmth. Stephen was spoiling him with it. 

He didn’t say anything when he took Stephen’s hand and lead them to his room, still as pristine as the first day he came. Stephen’s room was dark, cluttered and full of toys and posters that could make for hours of conversation. It reminded him of the day his mother walked him all around the house to teach him about the histories of each individual vase, the story behind each painting. No, Karl wanted warmth and small words, there was nothing in this room that could remind him of his family. They stumbled in the mattress, arms and legs wrapped together and heads pressed together in a kiss. The afternoon sun that poured through the window shined straight against the bed, it made their skin glow.

Stephen was humming something, the man couldn’t go a second of his life without music. Karl wished he had the same passion he did.

“I looked below and your mother wasn’t there, hopefully no one noticed us come out of the bathroom together.”

He kept humming as he spoke. “Doubt it. Either way, she won’t care. She’d probably be delighted that I’m dating someone so... exemplary.” 

Karl frowned. “You don’t understand, Stephen. What if they tell my family? What if more people find out? I would be a disgrace to the family line. We have to be more careful.” 

The man stared at him like it was a factor in their relationship he hadn’t even considered. “I... I forgot, sorry..”

“Just because you life is bliss doesn’t mean others are as well. You keep forgetting the very reason why I’m with you right now.” 

“Listen, you know my parents aren’t shitty, right? They may something stupid but they aren’t homophobic... mostly. We can talk to them one of these days, tell ‘em about our whole deal, and they can promise to keep it a secret. They’ll understand. Listen, they don’t actually know. My parents don’t know me that well.” Stephen reached out for Karl’s hand without a second thought. “You’re safe with us, you’re family now.”

Karl wanted to believe the words, he wanted to truly believe that it was safe here. As much as he tried, he couldn’t. He’d been surrounded by hostility and tension his entire life.

Even if it was true, the brief moment of security he had in this house will become infinitesimal once he left for his home at the end of the summer. Was it truly worth it?

“When did you do that before?” Karl changed the subject, he didn’t want to argue about this. “Have you had sex... often?”

“Well, definitely more than you. But I guess a few times with a couple of different people. The first time was with a guy I didn’t really know that well but we hung out once and had sex, nothing more.”

“You speak about it so casually, all these encounters as if it’s nothing.” 

“It’s not like they mean anything, it’s just sex.” Stephen shrugged.

For someone who was raised around the idea of the sanctity of unions and the purity of sex, Stephen’s words felt insulting. “You’re the first person to ever touch me like that.”

He felt a laugh against his chest where Stephen was resting his head. “That’s obvious, you  _ reek  _ of virginity. I can’t believe it though, you’re real handsome. I was surprised I was your first kiss.”

“No. My parents toyed with the idea of arranging me with my distant cousin to keep the lineage strong.” At that, Stephen gave him a disgusted look. “They settled that I could marry whom I pleased, as long as she is also powerful, noble and... approved by them.”

“So not who you please, then?”

Karl stared at the concrete ceiling. “I have never been able to control my life, what I wore, where I went, what I do. Then I met you.”

“I’ve been known to be pretty life changing.”

“Stephen...”

“What would you do if you didn’t have to do what your parents told you? Who would you be?”

Karl shook his head, fingers digging to Stephen’s shirt. “I don’t know. I never thought it was a possibility.”

“It still can be a possibility.”

They locked eyes. Stephen moved his head upwards, closer to him, expecting another kiss. Instead, Karl pressed a hand to his cheek and stroked it, allowing the tenderness. The other man was unreadable as he closed his eyes to the touch.

“You're the first person to ever touch me.” He repeated, hoping to get the message across this time without Stephen cracking a joke to release the seriousness of it all. It was a defense mechanism, he was sure of it.

“Like, sexually?”

Karl’s hand was still on Stephen’s cheek. “Softly.”

A soft  _ oh _ escaped Stephen. Nothing followed after that, Karl didn’t blame him. All he did was pull them closer, he didn’t think it was possible. “I’m not great with words but I like treating you well. You’re a  _ Baron _ , you deserve nothing but the best care.” Stephen gave him a wink, Karl rolled his eyes for what felt like the fifth time that day. 

“Future Baron, the title is useless anyway. I don’t want to be any sort of aristocrat or politician. But I have no passions, no talents that would make my family proud of me.”

At least this time, Karl didn’t feel like he was about to cry. It was a fact he had accepted a long time ago, his tears would be useless.  

“Stay here with us, or come with me to New York. I won’t let them turn you into something you don’t wanna become. We can be doctors together, or you could study something else and we can room together.”

Such naive words, such ridiculous thoughts--Karl gave him a sad smile. For all his experience, Stephen was strangely innocent in some ways. Karl kissed him to shut out whatever nonsense he was going to say, and immediately Stephen melted at it, seemingly forgetting what he was going to say.

“I don’t know if that’s a yes or a no, babe.”

The Romanian licked his lips. “Stephen, I--”

A phone started to ring inside his jeans, the same dirty ones he shouldn’t even be wearing, cutting off any words they were going to say. Karl took his phone, it was his mother.

They looked at each other and detangled themselves, as if his mother was going to appear and see them any second. Stephen stood up to leave to give him some privacy, but Karl grabbed his hand before he could leave the bed. 

“Stay.” A simple word, so much weight. Stephen nodded and went back to rest with his head on Karl’s lap.

Karl hit  _ răspuns _ on his phone and heard his mother speak for the first time in ages. In English, for some reason. He’d been hoping that she would have the decency to speak in their native tongue so Stephen wouldn’t hear how ruthless she could be at first hand, but alas, his mother won’t even spare him that kindness.

“Oh, you finally picked up. I thought you were going to ignore me again.” She said, voice dripping with disappointment. She was referring to the last time she called and Karl couldn’t pick up, he was with Stephen and Wong at the time and wanted to enjoy his moment of peace. It was ridiculous, he called her every single day and yet she couldn’t let go of this one thing.

“ _ Alo,  _ _ mamă. _ How is London treating you?” 

“Horribly. We had to relocate from our home here to a more remote apartment in a... less desirable part of the city. I am surrounded by college students. I don’t know if I can take another week of this.” 

He felt Stephen huff, listening to their conversation. “That sounds... difficult. Was it grandfather’s idea?” 

“Yes, he told us to act like foreigners who just moved to the country, told us to try to speak German and not Romanian to avoid speculation. As if anyone here would even know who we are.” Her tone shifted and she let out a laugh. “At least I am not stuck in a farm. Oh, Karl, you must be suffering. Is it hot there? Do they really have that many guns?”

“Well, actually--”

“Surrounded by animals and annoying Americans. I couldn’t bare it. Your father told me you that you told him that you are spending a lot of time with their son.”

Karl gulped. “Yes, he’s my friend.”

“Oh, you made your first friend!” She didn’t sound impressed. “Just don’t get too close, Karl. You are leaving that place in soon, I don’t want you moping around once you come back home. Don’t you miss our home? I miss you  _ so _ much.” He wasn’t sure whether or not he could trust her words. He was used to the guilt she would try to make him feel.

The young man fell silent, pondering on his response. His house never felt like a home, especially not after he learned what an actual home was supposed to feel like. No amount of paintings and expensive furniture could change that. A hut in the middle of the Amazon could more like home than that. 

His mother asked for his name twice, sounding increasingly irritated as the seconds went by. “Karl, are you there? Answer me.”

“I am... having fun here, actually. I-I miss you too, _ mamă, _ but America isn’t too bad. The town smells of fresh air, the pastries are delicious!” Karl gulped. “I, um, can send you pictures, if you like.”

Stephen perked up and looked at him, eyes locked with one another. He had a look of wonder on his face, a faint blush and one of his eyes was covered by his hair. He looked gorgeous, like he came out of a dream, but Karl couldn’t say anything about it on the phone. He rested his hand on his lover’s cheek instead.

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me those idiots have filled your head with hippie, farmer stupidity.” He spat out, Karl felt his heart race.

“They are very kind and I have learned things I could never learn from a book or from class. I am having fun. They have goats!” 

She scoffed at the word, it did not surprise him. He doubted she’d ever had a day of fun in her life, she was so much like his grandfather. “I don’t like it. No doubt are they setting a bad example on you.”

He switched back to his native tongue.  “They aren’t. I told you, they are good people,  _ mamă _ , why do you not trust me?” He gritted his teeth. “I am happy here, happier than I have been in a long time, why can’t you feel the same for me?”

For once, she didn’t answer right away. It probably took her aback, Karl had never asked that sort of question to any authority figure before. He felt Stephen take his hand reassuringly. 

“Could you put on  _ tat _ _ ă _ on the phone?” Karl was closer to his father, at least slightly. They weren’t close in the normal sense, they wouldn’t play catch or joke like children did with their dads in the movies, but he could at least count on him for an occasional encouraging word. Some comfort after Krowler beat him. Sometimes, he even gave him a hug. “I would like to speak to him.”

“...You father sends his regards. I will tell him that you are doing well. Good bye,  _ leu pui meu. _ We will speak soon.”

She hung up immediately, not bothering to hear Karl say goodbye. This time, Karl couldn’t read her tone, he had not the faintest idea of how she had reacted to his words. He set his phone on his bedside table and looked up at the ceiling.

Stephen broke the silence, as per usual. “Um... what did that last part mean? Those words in Romanian?”

Karl let out a hollow laugh. “It means ‘my lion cub’, she hasn’t called me that in years. Not since I was very young.”

The American smiled. Once more, they were curled up again, they couldn’t care less if the summer heat from outside was making them sweat again. Neither of them would be entirely adverse to another shower together. “I like that, it suits you. How do you say it again?”

“ _ Pui. De. Leu.  _ That’s ‘lion cub’. When I was a toddler, my hair was longer and bigger, I suppose I resembled a lion.”

“What if I call you lion _ man _ ?”

“Please don’t, I will sound like one of the old rock stars you’re so fond of.”

Stephen smiled and kissed him. “I’m  _ already  _ pretty fond of you. That would just help.”

Silence filled the room again. Surprisingly enough, Stephen didn’t start kissing him, as the man usually did when they were silent. He rested his head on Karl’s chest again, idly tapping his chest to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Karl bit his lip.

“I am afraid I made her angry.”

Stephen paused then looked up at him. “Yeah, she didn’t sound that happy...”

Karl sighed. “I was having a good day. Such a good day, why did she have to call?”

He didn’t expect Stephen to say anything else, but he spoke, nevertheless. “At least you spoke back to her. That counts for something, right?”

Karl sniffed and looked away. He thought this would ruin his day, that he wouldn’t be able to think of anything else but his mother’s scathing words. Instead, all he could think about was Stephen, who kissed his cheek and jaw over and over until he looked at him again. “I think that was really brave.”

He whimpered. “Really?”

Stephen hugged him. Karl couldn’t help but bury his face into the crook of the man’s neck.

There was nothing else to say about the matter, nothing they could ponder about that could be somehow answered. They heard dishes clink against each other from downstairs, muffled words from a film Donna watched in her room. They heard birds and their breaths and the rustle of sheets and they got underneath them, huddled together and not caring if the day was too hot for intimacy. 

He worried, he couldn’t help but worry. Karl was raised to be made of nothing but a constant dread of what his parents might think of him. But this time, only then, did he manage to forget that his days with Stephen were finite and that his mother was thousands of miles away, probably cursing the fact that they even shared the same blood.

For once, he found that he couldn’t care less. 

Karl breathed in, breathed out. It felt like the first day of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen makes a mistake. Karl gets angry. They make things work.
> 
> This process repeats itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys i'm sorry about how late this is! but it's long enough that i think it makes up for it.
> 
> actually, the next four weeks might have erratic posting times since i'm going on vacation for a month. balancing work, family and friend time and fic is difficult ya'll. but i'll do my best to keep it in the friday schedule. 
> 
> **warnings:** mentions of past abuse, panic attacks

The bliss could only last for a short time. He expected their honeymoon phase to last longer, perhaps even for the rest of the Summer, just all the movies he saw.  

For the first time since he arrived, Karl was asked to do a chore. 

Not really a chore, per se, it was more of a favor. Donna wanted to go to a friend’s house, which was a thirty minute drive away, and everyone else was too busy to take her. Even Stephen was busy, he’d been asked by another farmer, a family friend, to help him with the cow he had that had just gone into labor. Karl did not have a weak stomach, but he didn’t find any sort of birth comfortable to watch, and politely declined the offer to go with him. 

Leaving him as the only one who could drive Donna to her friend’s house. 

Beverly handed him the keys and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, really. I would take her but I gotta help Eugene with some paperwork.” 

“Really, it’s no trouble at all.” Truthfully, he would much prefer to stay in his room and dabble with Stephen’s keyboard, but he didn’t want to seem rude. He still felt tense around Donna, awkward even. Karl wasn’t really used to talking to women in general, and while Beverly had been kinder than anyone he’d ever met, Donna was much more direct and rude than any girl. No wonder Stephen and her were always so close. 

Donna looked up at him, red hair falling on her shoulders. “Do you even know how to drive?” 

Karl rolled his eyes as they walked out. “Of course I do.” 

“I just thought that you had a chauffeur all the time or something. Like all the yuppies in movies.” 

He wasn’t even going to bother asking what that word meant. 

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door for her once they reached the car, despite his already thinning patience. “We have that too, but we are all required to learn how to drive in my family.” 

Donna just thanked him and didn’t talk after that, she was her seat typing away on her phone, ignoring him completely once more, though she did close the door on him. Karl sat in front of the steering wheel and turned on the car. It had been a while since he drove, never a vehicle that’s this old, but he knew the way well enough not to worry. 

They drove in silence, the kind that Karl would have found comfortable but now had been indoctrinated into Stephen’s taste in music, and now he felt odd being in a car that wasn’t blasting David Bowie songs at full volume.  

He stopped at a red light, even if there was no one around, which Donna laughed at. Karl gave her a pointed look. “Your brother ignores them constantly, don’t do that when you learn how to drive.” 

“Yeah, I still got a another year until I have to worry about that.” 

She was so young, so full of an indifference to the world and what others thought of her, or at least managed to pretend she didn’t care.  

Lucky.

Karl stopped the car right beside her friend’s home near the town. Donna gave him a quick thanks and took her bag before leaving.  

Right before he drove off, he saw Donna running towards him from the sideview mirror. She must have left something in the backseat. He lowered the window for her, surprised to see a smile on her face not unlike Stephen’s.  

“By the way, Stevie told me you two are dating. Congrats!” 

They truly shared the same sly smile. Like a fox. Only this time Karl had no idea behind the intent behind her words.  

He widened his eyes. “What?” 

It didn’t seem like the reaction Donna was expecting, she looked confused. “You okay?” 

“When did he tell you this?” 

“Like, a week ago. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” 

Still caught in shock, Karl responded by nodding dumbly, eyes fixed in front of him and he didn’t even notice when she walked away.  

His hands gripped tight on the steering wheel.  

 _Damn him. Damn it all._  

Karl backed up and drove off, hitting the gas a bit too quickly for his own good. He still stopped on the red light, no amount of anger clouding his mind could stop him from obeying traffic laws. In the minute of waiting for the light to turn green he managed to punch the seat beside him four times, then steaming in silent fury. 

It had been so long since he hit something out of rage, part of him was glad Stephen wasn’t here to see it. Another part of him wished his fist would connect with his perfect face. 

Karl made his way back to the farm, slamming the door as he walked towards Stephen. Stephen, who was tending to the animals. Who had a life planned ahead of him and a perfect family and not a care in the world. Who had the audacity to grin at him with a wave, holding Oats in his arms, and for a brief moment Karl couldn’t remember what he was angry about. 

Damn that man and the power he had over him. 

“Hey, is Donna alright?” The farm boy asked, ever the doting brother.  

Karl huffed. “She is fine. I need to talk to you, in private.” 

Stephen gestured around them. “We’re already alone, what’s up?” 

He clearly noticed the anger in his face, it wasn’t as if Karl was trying to hide it. “Somewhere  _ private _ , thought I doubt you know the meaning of the word.”

Without hearing what Stephen had to say, he took Oats in his arms, settled her back with the rest of the goats, and grabbed the man by his arm. He wasn’t going to involve his goat-daughter into their drama.  

It had all been going so well, why did they have to talk about this _now_?  

He dragged Stephen into the house and to his room, ignoring his questions and demands. His anger was getting the best of him, he was well aware, but they needed to discuss their relationship realistically. They needed to discuss their future together, no matter how bleak it seemed to be. 

“Okay, what the fuck? What’s your problem?” Stephen has rubbing his arm. Karl looked away at the sight, guilt forming in his stomach as he remembered it wasn’t the first time he’d hurt the man. 

“My _problem_ is that you broke your promise. I told you not to tell anyone about the two of us.” He hissed out, keeping his voice down despite the fact that no one was home. 

Stephen laughed, actually _laughed._ “I didn’t tell anyone, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

It was his turn to laugh, though it came out harsh and bitter. “Then why did Donna congratulate me on the fact we were a couple just earlier today? Stephen, I told you we need to be careful.” 

With that, the shit eating smile on Stephen’s face disappeared. Caught red-handed, as Americans said. Mordo almost smiled in place. “I told her not to tell anyone.” 

“Well, clearly she did! Who knows if she’s telling her friend at this instant?! She didn’t listen to you and told me! This is what I fear, Stephen. Who else did you tell?” 

The man sat on his bed, shrugging. “Wong knows. But you already knew that, I don’t get why you’re freaking out about this!” 

Karl glared at him, arms crossed like his mother would do when she was angry at him. “You’re my... boyfriend, I trusted you.” 

Stephen looked like a kicked puppy. Served him right. “Listen, I told Donna ‘cause I don’t keep secrets from her. She isn’t gonna spill, she’s kept a lot of other secrets hidden well. Wong barely ever talks to my parents. Why are you worrying so much?!” 

“Because I don’t have a _perfect fucking family_ , Stephen! This isn’t game, this is my future!” 

“I never took this as a game! You have to get that stick out of your ass and relax for a second.” 

“How am I supposed to relax when the reason I’m here in the first place is because someone held a gun to my head?!” He was screaming, but he couldn’t even control he voice. He felt so angry and betrayed. 

Stephen gritted his teeth. “I wasn’t talking about that and you know it. You only ever bring it up to make a point.” 

His anger was replaced by fury. He wanted to hit him, he wanted to hit him so badly. Karl settled on driving his fist into his model plane, watching it shatter to the ground.  

“Karl, calm the fuck down.” 

His knuckle throbbed in pain, Karl hissed. “I thought you of all people would understand. I thought you would take this more seriously!” 

“I’m taking this realistically, your parents aren’t going to find out about this through my _sister_.”  

“You don’t know them, they have their ways.” Karl tightened his fist, his knuckles were bleeding. A few splinters for hitting the wooden figurine adorned his skin. He refused to acknowledge the throbbing sting any longer. He wanted to show no weakness. “This was the one thing they couldn’t decide for me, the one thing out of their control.” 

“You can’t keep hiding, Karl. One day they’ll find out.” 

“If my grandfather finds out that a middle-class _american_ is sodomizing me--”  

“Woah, woah. Karl, it’s not the nineteenth century--” 

“But my grandfather is stuck in it! He’ll put me back in a plane to Romania and he will lock me in my room for the rest of the summer! He will beat me, Stephen. Beat your touch out of me. Force me never to talk to you again.” Karl choked out, clenching his fists until the knuckles were pale.  

Stephen stood up at his words. He didn’t realize he had been shaking, that his eyes were stinging. Christ, he hated crying. He hated feeling this weak around this man. “I’m begging you, I don’t want him to find out. He’ll hurt me. He’ll hurt you. He can’t--” 

Karl felt a pair of hands settle on the small of his back to pull him for a hug. He didn’t return the sentiment, yet he buried his face into Stephen's shirt. Warm cloth and strong arms, it made him feel small, even if he was only two inches shorter than him.   

He hated being pitied so much no matter how much he realized he needed it. 

Stephen’s hands were always warm, his entire body radiated heat and well-intended kindness, whereas Karl always felt cold, even with the sun shining through the windows.

“I am so angry at you.” He breathed out. 

“Don’t think it’ll be the last time you say that to me.”  

He couldn’t believe that was his answer -- that Stephen would have the audacity to joke at a time like this. He couldn’t believe he choked out a laugh because of those words. 

“I’m sorry,” Stephen continued. “I know it won’t fix anything, but I was a stupid asshole. I’m sorry.” 

“You were.” Karl closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you, again.” 

“It’s fine. I deserved it.” 

He pulled away to look at him, holding his face by his chin so he made sure Stephen looked into his eyes. Grey clashing with brown, steady as could be. “No, you don’t deserve it. No one ever does.” 

_ Unless he has to _ , a voice in his mind said. A voice that had been etched into his chin since childhood. 

Perhaps there were people who deserved to be hurt, he could list a few off the top of his head with ease. But not them, especially not Stephen. He was too radiant to be hurt, despite his constant mistakes.  

Stephen was kissing him, tongue and all. Karl gasped against his lips, and settled his hands on the man’s chest.  

It would be better to talk about this and not to forget about their problems with sex, but they were just boys, what could he expect? 

“ _Stephen_...” He moaned. “I need you.”  

He expected the man to say something along the lines of how well he was going to touch him. About how much he wanted to feel his cock against him. Sweet, tender words muttered between pants and harsh breaths about taking him and making him feel amazing and _whole_.  

In reality, what he heard was a gasp of his name, then Stephen saying “Oh, shit!” a bit too loudly. 

The blood on his knuckles had landed on Stephen’s shirt, red staining grey. Karl almost forgot about it. 

Before he could speak, Stephen cursed again and immediately took off his shirt to wrap it around the man’s hand, though Karl couldn't really enjoy the sight under their current circumstances. 

“Give me a sec, I’ll look for my first aid kid. Try not to touch the splinters.” He went down the stairs, not bothering to put on a shirt. Karl sighed and sat on the edge of his mattress. He clenched his fist by instinct and regretted it instantly. He hoped no one else heard his tantrum, it was the first one he’d been allowed to have in a long time. 

Stephen came back moments later holding a white box, one he’d seen holding before, filled with basic medical necessities. He sat on the floor, between Karl’s knees, and gently took his hand in his. 

Steady hands started to take out the splinters with tweezers. It was obvious he’d done this before. He’d never seen Stephen with such intense concentration, methodically putting the splinters aside on a paper towel, cleaning off the blood in his hands with alcohol and covering his knuckles with an elastic bandage.  

The man was born born to be a doctor, he had no doubt about it. 

Once finished, Stephen kissed his hand, his arm, leaving a trail of kisses until he found Karl’s lips again. It was brief, tender. Karl found himself wanting more, but it was not the time. 

“Thank you, Doctor Strange,” he whispered. Stephen smiled fondly.  

“It’s what I do, Mister Mordo.” That earned him another kiss.  

“I believe this is breaking multiple ethic laws, won’t you get in trouble, Doctor?” Karl teased. 

“God, stop, this is sounding like _Grey’s Anatomy_ barf.”   

Karl ran a hand through Stephen’s hair, the man was still sitting between his knees. His eyes looked so pretty, lips naturally pink and full--under different circumstances, Karl would feel instantly aroused by the sight. Instead, he felt at peace. Such a contrast from earlier. 

The American bit his lip before speaking. “You told me... You told me they didn’t hit you that much.” 

“I lied, I thought you would pity me because of it.” Karl sighed. “It is only my grandfather... he uses his belt when he’s particularly mad. My parents do not hit me, but they never stop him.” 

Stephen leaned his face into Karl’s hand, like a cat asking to be pet. Whether it was for the man’s comfort or his own, he did not know.  

“I...” Stephen began, but his voice faltered, turned into a mumble. “I don’t know what to say."

“You don’t have to say anything.” He stroked Stephen’s cheekbone. “I would prefer not to talk about it. I just wish you would be more careful.”

“‘M sorry. If I had known...” He trailed off again. It seemed like speaking about these sort of things were neither of their strong suit. Karl has been taught to bottle these emotions up, deep inside, until they become a part of you.  

He was so tired of having these perfect days ruined by the memory of his family. He just wanted to forget and live in blissful ignorance for once. Stephen didn’t understand.  

He knew it was pathetic that a single man has made him forget about all those traditions. It scared him how little he cared. He will return to Romania different, changed. Grown. Perhaps then he will stand up to his kin. Perhaps then he could stop feeling so pathetic. 

Stephen spoke up again. They were laying on the bed now, facing each other on the mattress. The American’s fingers were tracing his bandages. Karl had his ears focused on the door in case anyone came in. “Am I a good boyfriend?” 

Karl sighed, not surprised that Stephen was turning this about him. The question seemed so childish, like something a young boy would ask his playground sweetheart. Karl couldn’t help but smile just a bit. “I’m afraid I don’t really have anything to compare you to. You’re my first. My first everything.” 

He already knew, he’d known all along. The words still seemed to shock him, somehow. 

“Am I doing a good job, at least?”

“I may have to retract some point because of today, from the both of us, actually. But I would give your overall performance a... B-plus.” 

After so many tense moments, Stephen finally laughed again. He’d missed his smile, it was clearly difficult for the man to take anything seriously for too long. “A B-plus?! No way, I’m a straight A student, dude.” 

Karl giggled, covering his mouth as he always did when he laughed. It was a reflex at this point, Stephen seemed to like it. He said it made him look like a prince. “Well, you will need to study harder and focus more.” 

Stephen’s smirked. “And are you going to tutor me, Mister Mordo?” 

“Yes. We will need many _private_ sessions.” That earned him a kiss, the sweet ones he enjoyed the most, rather than when Stephen was trying to stick his tongue down his throat. Not that he didn’t appreciate those, but all the classical books and novels he had to read had accustomed him to enjoyed these sorts of kisses. They parted, and he saw Stephen laughed, eyes closed and mirthful. Jane Austen would faint at the sight, Karl thought. 

Karl licked his lips before asking the same. “Am I a good... boyfriend?” 

It took longer for Stephen to answer than he expected, his heart raced faster with worry as the seconds passed. “I think you’re my first, too.” 

Karl raised an eyebrow. “But you have had girlfriends before, right? Boyfriends? I’m more likely your... tenth.” 

“Eight, actually.” Stephen corrected. Karl huffed at the number, he had no idea if what he felt was jealousy or self-consciousness. “No, what I meant was that you’re, like... My first real boyfriend.” 

Karl felt butterflies in his chest now. Or perhaps it was bile rising up his throat, he wasn’t sure how he should react to these confessions. All he knew was that he felt light headed at the words and that Stephen was now sitting on his lap, hands laying on the mattress on either side of his head. Was he trying to be romantic? He felt as if he was drowning. Or he was about to be strangled with a pillow. 

It was a long time before Stephen spoke again. Was he going to kiss him? Straddle him? Was he going to end this all early? Karl wouldn’t blame him, he was already such a burden on everyone else. He wouldn’t be surprised if Stephen gave up on him too.  

“Karl, I--” Stephen gulped. “I think I love you.” 

He felt paralyzed. All the butterflies turned to nausea. Oh god, he felt lightheaded. He was so sure he would faint. 

He hadn’t prepared for this. He had not come to America and expected to fall in love. He knew he was in love, deep down he always knew, but this hearing those words said to him didn’t feel like he expected them to. In books, he would read about how the world would stop. How the world would feel like a stage and the lights were only on them. Except the lights are too dim to read his lines.  

They have so little time left together. He only arrived here four weeks ago. They only started this a few weeks ago. Did he tell this to everyone he dated this early? Why would Stephen tell him this now? The man was a idiot, a beautiful idiot. Why would he say it now? 

Stephen let out a nervous laugh. “I looked up how to say it in Romanian too. _Te iubesc._ Did I say it right?” 

Christ, he was crying again. The fact that he couldn’t remember whether or not this was the first time the words had been said to him was terrifying. Perhaps long ago, when he was a child. Perhaps in a dream.  

Stephen looked panicked, regret written all over his face. “Karl? Karl, oh god, are you okay?” 

His lips trembled, trying his hardest not to let anymore tears fall. He should be an expert at it by now, but it wasn’t working. He felt hands at his cheek clean them away. 

He sighed and whispered: “Don’t do this to me...” 

Another nervous laugh. Why must he laugh so much? Was this funny to him? “I-uh, don’t know how to answer that.” 

His eyes were clouded, he felt as if his whole body was shaking, trembling in fear. “Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t do this to me.” A sob escaped his lips. “Please...” 

Stephen looked hurt, confused. “Do what? Shit, did I ruin everything?” 

Karl shook his head. “We have so little time left, Stephen. We have only known each other for five weeks. How could you _say_ that?”  

The other man seemed baffled now. Would he get angry at him? Would he leave in a huff, angry that Karl didn’t make any sense? “We can make the most of it. We can work things out, I just know we can. Skype and stuff, we can make this _work,_ Karl. There’s no reason to be hopeless.”  

“I-I... I don’t know. I don’t know if we can...” His voice felt so weak, stammering and trying to make sense of it all. “I don’t know if we can.” 

Stephen kissed him, this time it felt desperate, messy. Karl wasn’t sure if he liked it. “Yeah, we can. I love you, I really do. I love you.” 

He hated this. 

“Stephen--” 

“I love you.” 

As it turned out, he also covered his mouth when he was sobbing. He tried to keep it low, tried to hide his face, but Stephen kept repeating his the same words to soothe him. Or trap him. Karl breathed in ragged breaths. 

“You don’t have to say it back, y’know? I just wanted to let you know.” 

Karl nodded, he wasn’t entirely sure why. “I can’t--”

“I know. I know,” another kiss, then one to his forehead. “God, I’m really shit at this, aren’t I?” 

Karl truly felt like he was going to run out of air. 

He barked out a laugh, though it felt hollow. “We are both terrible...” Karl sat up so Stephen would be still on his lap yet not pinning him, giving him room to breath, even if it was shaky. “I can’t... I can’t say it back. I refuse.” 

The American gritted his teeth. “Am I... the first one to say that to you?” 

“I’m not sure.” He hated he couldn’t actually remember. Maybe one time his father said it to him, but the memory was so hazy it didn’t feel real. If it didn’t happen, he invented it. 

He knew Stephen wanted to kiss him again. Karl looked down, resting his forehead on the man’s chest so he wouldn’t be able to. He didn’t feel like kisses right now. Karl wrapped his arms against his chest, suddenly cold.

“I’m sorry.” He said to the man on his lap.  

“It’s fine.” 

“It really isn’t.” 

Karl closed his eyes, he could hear the man’s heartbeat. It was so fast, it matched his own. “I’m not ready, give me time. Just... give me time.” 

Ironically enough, time was the last thing they had to spare. 

A hand started to stroke his hair. It was growing longer than usual, he didn’t trust any of the barbers in this town in order to cut it. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to cut it anymore.  

He didn’t know what Stephen felt, for all he knew he could be silently furious. He could be crying along with him. He could be laughing at him. Karl watched as more tears dripped on his lap, feeling defeated.  

“Karl, I--” 

“Please, don’t say it again.” He interrupted. “Stop.” 

It must have felt like a punch to the gut, a slap to the face for Stephen. He knew it was easier to throw around those words here, maybe they weren’t as special for him. He’d probably heard it so many times that he gave them away like he was a charity. 

“I’ll stop saying it, I don’t want to scare you again. I don’t want to see you like this ever again, actually. I never want to hurt you, I don’t like hurting people, Karl. I’m alright if you never say it back. Just... be honest with me, that way I won’t say so much stupid things all the time. I’m trying, I really am. I want to be good for you.” Stephen cleared his throat. 

Finally, Karl managed to tilt his head up again. Grey eyes meeting brown. The only thing that made him smile was knowing that his parents will never know this kind of love, no one in his family ever will.  

It felt like a mad thought. 

He chose his words carefully. “I... am thankful. For everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know what might happen in the future, I’m used to expecting the worst but just know that I will never regret this... Hopefully.” 

“That’s more than enough for me.”  

This time, Karl kissed him. This time, he couldn’t find a word to describe it. 

 

~*~

 

The days that followed were surrounded by a thick sort of tension that neither of them knew how to fix. Ever since that fateful talk, Karl felt as if he had a headache, a weigh in his shoulders that made him feel like Atlas.  

 _How dramatic,_ he thought to himself mockingly.   

Stephen was well aware, he kept trying to fix it. They continued to go to town, tend to the animals, spend every moment together--yet Karl felt distant. Dissociated from it all. 

“Did I ruin everything?” The man had asked, just as he did after he told him... those words. Karl shook his head, held his hand and turned the volume up in the radio, allowing the music to drown out his thoughts. 

Mrs. Strange couldn’t tell there was something between them. Mr. Strange wasn’t paying attention. Donna didn’t seem to care. 

There was no one they could talk to about this except themselves. 

Or Wong. 

As it turned out, Karl didn’t mind the man knowing as much as he thought he would. He didn’t trust him entirely, per se, but he enjoyed the man’s company. Wong always seemed relaxed and composed, much more well-mannered than Stephen in a way that they balanced each other out. The two were joined at the hip even if they could no longer spend as much time with each other a they would have liked to.  

Three days had passed since their argument, the confession--Karl was wandering around the bookstore, eyeing the new arrival of books that week. Yet part of his mind kept wandering to where Stephen and Wong sat in the corner, drinking tea and speaking in low voices.  

As he saw them laugh, Karl couldn’t help but feel something bloom in his chest. He thought it was jealousy. 

Karl picked up the first book he saw and pretended to skim it, trying to listen in on their conversation. He only picked up a few words and phrases that he couldn’t quite piece together.  

 _“Are you sure...”_  

 _“The hill...”_  

 _“Idea...”_  

 _“..ignores me...”_  

 _“...just the three of us... trust me.”_  

After a few more random words, Karl huffed and gave up. Out of nowhere, he felt a hand on his shoulder, one bigger than Stephen’s.  

“I didn’t think you were a _Fifty Shades_ kind of guy, Carol.” Wong said in a teasing voice. Karl noticed the book he was holding and winced.   

“Ah, I just wanted to know what the fuss was about. Haha.” Karl sounded so fake, he could be a terrible liar sometimes. He placed the book back in its stand. “What do you need?” 

Wong studied him for a moment. “Come sit with us, I want to talk to the two of you.” 

Karl nodded, already feeling increasingly worried.  

He sat next to Stephen and felt the man’s hand graze against his. It was definitely on purpose. 

Wong glanced at them both, looked around the store to make sure it was empty, then visibly rolled his eyes at the two of them.  

That wasn’t a reaction Karl was expecting. 

“Listen, you two, I am so tired of having to listen to this guy’s,” He pointed at Stephen, who looked impressed, “bullshit about your problems. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to play therapist for Stephen and, in my professional opinion, there’s only one way to solve this.”

Stephen visibly vibrated in excitement next to him. What the hell were they on about? 

“We’re going to the hill, tonight.” He blurted out. Wong sighed, it seemed that he was the one who wanted to announce it. “Strange, bring money for snacks and drinks. Carol, all you have to do is show up and try not to be so prissy.” 

Well, at least the man was honest.  “Which hill?” 

“The one we fucked in for the first time.” 

That earned him a glare from Karl, he didn’t understand why they man had to be so lewd in front of others. “Stephen!” 

“What? Wong knows what we’re about.” 

Wong was checking his phone and looked as if he couldn’t care less about what they were up to. Without raising his head, the man gestured at pair to get going. “You two should get a head start in getting some snacks. I’ll meet you outside your house later tonight. I’m driving.” 

Karl already felt at ease knowing that someone else will be driving, someone who would probably follow traffic laws. Unlike Stephen. The man will get hurt someday if he isn’t careful. 

“Hell yeah,” Stephen raised his hand in the air, asking Wong for a high-five. His friend reluctantly returned the sentiment. Stephen make a strange noise akin to an explosion when he did so--Wong almost laughed at it. Almost. 

As if on queue, Mr. Wong came in through the front door patting them both in the back and telling his son to go back to his post. The man was kind but almost more terrifying than Wong himself. He wore thin rimmed, circular glasses and has a prosthetic hand that he assumed it would be rude to ask about. Karl and Stephen gave their quick goodbyes, Karl in mandarin in order to impress the elder, and made their way out the front door. Stephen made sure to wave and wink at his friend before leaving. Wong replied by flipping him off. Seriously, Karl didn’t understand their friendship. 

They walked towards the nearest market store, Stephen had a hop to his walk that made it clear that he was very much looking forward to tonight.  

“Alright, what is going on?” Karl stopped him before he could walk any further. 

“What? Just happy, that’s all.” 

“What are the two of you planning?”

“It’s a surprise, babe. Look, all you have to know is that we need these snacks and that we’re gonna have a really chill night, okay?”  

Karl didn’t feel “chill” about any of this in the slightest. He crossed his arms, not responding, wondering whether or not he should reconsider all of this and simply stay in his room for the rest of the night.  

Stephen looked around, making sure that there wasn’t anyone around to see them, and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Come on, Karl. Things between us have been so awkward lately, let’s just have a nice night together, with Wong. He’s doing this for us, y’know.” 

“You... told him about our... conversation?” He spoke slowly and carefully, making sure Stephen would actually listen to him this time. 

“Not in detail, but yeah. Wong isn’t really into relationships in general, I thought he could give us good advice.” 

Karl pressed two fingers to either side of his temple, trying to relax the dull ache in his head. No, he didn’t want to argue today. “Fine. Fine, perhaps tonight will be fun.” 

“Hell yeah it’ll be! I’m always fun to be around.”

Karl huffed out a laugh. The man was far too confident and loud, it would drive his grandfather up the wall. Which was probably exactly the reason why he liked him so much.  

The market, or supermarket, was too bright and smelled of cleaning products. Stephen waved at the lady behind the counter, they seemed to know each other, and immediately grabbed a shopping cart to ride around in. Karl pulled out his phone and started to make a list. 

“What do we need?” 

“Huh? Oh, just grab whatever you like. We gotta stay below twenty bucks, though, that’s all the money I have for the week.” 

Twenty? What the hell would anyone be able to buy with twenty American dollars? Karl shook his head, “I’ll pay Stephen, don’t worry about it.”

“Woah, no. You’re my guest, my treat.”  

Karl almost laughed in his face. “Stephen, trust me, I can afford it.”  

The man didn’t argue after that and immediately grabbed two bags of chips and another bag of sweet-and-salty popcorn. Karl grabbed different chocolate bars that seemed interesting, a green soda that he’d never tried before and a box of Pop-Tarts that his mother never let him eat.  

It was definitely too much already, he doubted they would even finish any of this tonight, but this was the first time he was able to choose whatever he wanted to eat, and American snacks were always extreme and ridiculous. If he was five, he would be ecstatic. No traditional sweets and pastries could compare to all the sugary and artificial sweets he was surrounded by. 

Stephen tagged along beside him and started to laugh when he saw disgust appear in his voice. “What the hell is this?” 

“PB&J. You guys don’t eat that?” 

Karl grimaced. “Wait... peanut butter and jam? Together? Why would you mix the two together?!” 

Stephen shrugged, “I used to like it. And we call it jelly.” 

“You are not kissing me with that mouth if you ever eat it again.” 

That earned him another laugh, Karl was almost completely serious. Stephen stopped him and held up a can to his face. “What about this?” 

“I don’t even know what this _is_.” Karl took the can and read the label.   

“It’s spray cheese.” 

The two words together made absolutely no sense to him. His grandfather used to tell him that Americans didn’t have taste buds, he was almost starting to believe it. Needless to say, he had to see what the hell this was for himself, and chucked the can inside the cart.  

“There’s one last thing I want to see for myself.” He said and made his way to where all the drinks were. This time, he decided to take the shopping cart for a ride himself. Stephen ran behind him. 

“Does root beer have alcohol?” He took two cans of the strange drink from where it was kept.  

“Nah, it’s just really sweet and good. Get another bottle for Wong, I think he likes it.” 

All of the snacks came together at less than forty dollars, Karl paid anyway, despite Stephen asking him not to. The cashier gave the two of them a pointed look. “You having a party?” 

Karl didn’t understand why she was so nosy. Stephen responded instead. “Just a small get together with a friend. How you doing, Karen? ” 

“I have my eye on you, Strange. No funny business.”  

The cashier seemed serious, Stephen responded with a nervous laugh and pushed Karl, trying to get them out of the store as quickly as possible.  

“What did you do?”  

“I may have had an incident inside the store a while back with mentos and soda. Just walk before the manager sees me.” 

He shook his head. If they had met under different circumstances, back when they were younger and even more naive, Karl didn’t think they would be good friends. Then again, the man was chaos and he was order--at least that’s what Stephen told him. If Wong could have tolerated them, who knew if he could have done the same. 

Though he doubted Stephen would have paid attention to him in this other life.

He winced at his thoughts--no. They were going to have fun today, they were going to fix things and go back to normal. The day has gone so well. For once, he didn’t want to be pessimistic about this. 

They walked outside and leaned against the wall of the store. The sun was beginning to set but the sun still shined as hard as ever. Karl quickly took his still chilled root beer out of the plastic bag. Stephen stopped, “Hey, let me help you with that I can--”. 

Karl opened it with his bare hands. Stephen immediately replied with “ _What the fuck_.”    

He definitely did it just to impress him. He also regretted this decision instantly, his hands hurt a bit now. And he still had the bandages around one of his knuckles. 

Karl raised his bottle to the other man before taking a swig, perhaps half the bottle.  

“So how does it taste?” 

He couldn’t respond fast enough, feeling bile go up his throat and ran to the nearest trash can.  

“Seriously?” Stephen was laughing at him, the prick.  

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you people?!” Karl yelled out with a cough. “This tastes like medicine!”  

He felt the bottle leave his hand. The sight of his boyfriend drinking what was left almost made him throw up again. “Tastes good to me. 

Karl whined and stood up straight once more, taking out the handkerchief from his pocket to clean up the corner of his lips. “I’m going to die. I have a weak stomach.” 

“You can’t die, we’re going out tonight.” Stephen threw the bottle in the direction of the trashcan, failing miserably. It landed against the wall of the supermarket instead, glass shattering everywhere.  

“Shit.” 

This was all so embarrassing. 

“Christ, Stephen.” Karl was just about to nag the man for his stupidity, but Stephen grabbed his arms and their bags before he could respond, running like a madman. “Stephen!” 

As it turned out, the very manager they had spoken to moments ago walked out of the store, yelling something undiscernible at them, but they were already a good distance away. “She’ll call the fucking cops, dude!”  

“This place has cops?” Karl thought the thought ridiculous, what the hell would ever happen in this small town? 

Karl was too shocked to react and, within seconds, Stephen had sprinted off to his car, leaving him behind with a very stern and tired looking woman, her arms crossed and looking at him with disdain. 

He sighed and took out his wallet, handed her a sum large enough for her to forget the situation. She didn’t answer, but took the dollars from his hand angrily, and went back inside. It was clear she wasn’t going to deal with the shattered glass right now. This was definitely not her first encounter with Stephen Strange.

He glared down the road as he reached Stephen’s car. The man looked in as if they were actually running from the police, Karl looked around them and it was clear that they weren’t in any sort of danger.  

“Thank you for leaving me behind to deal with that.” Karl said through gritted teeth. 

“Hey, she was one second away from calling the cops! And you’re better with words than me anyway.” 

He snorted, “Have you been in trouble with the police before?” 

“I had a close call once, not going through that shit again. I don’t trust them.” Stephen backed up the car and they made their way back home to get ready for their night together.  

“Close call for what?!” 

“They caught me driving without my permit, man! It sucked, I hate talking to them.” 

Karl gritted his teeth. “You know that you will be fine if a cop catches you for a minor offense here. I should be the one who’s worried, after seeing the all the recent American news. What the hell would the police from this small town do if they saw a new black teenager with hundreds of dollars in his wallet? What the hell were you thinking? Is this all a joke to you?” Karl took a deep breath before he went on, he could easily continue for another hour of this. “I need to calm down. And _you_ need to act like an adult.”  

Stephen didn’t respond, Karl didn’t expect him to. He wasn’t sure what he felt from his words, he was looking out the window instead.  

“‘m sorry.” He heard Stephen mumble. Karl scoffed in response.  

“You should think of people other than yourself from time to time.” 

The radio turned on and played something mindless from the radio, not even from Stephen’s music. The man couldn’t stand awkward silences, or confrontation. Perhaps it was for the best, Karl didn’t really want to have this discussion, anyway. He already had enough trouble being the only black boy in his school, well, sometimes it felt like he was the only one in all of Bucharest. It felt like he had to try twice as hard to prove himself in his school, three times as hard to prove himself to his family. He didn’t want to be reminded that there was barely anyone like him here as well. 

When they arrived home, said their hellos and goodbyes to the goats, and explained their plans for the night to Mrs. Strange, they went to their separate rooms. Karl didn’t know whether or not he should be angry or just ignore the fact that Stephen felt tense around him. He’ll probably get over it.  

Karl sighed, maybe he was too harsh. Stephen was still naive at heart, yet better than most. He should put his temper at check just this once and try to make it up for him. 

Not to mention that he had just spend fifty dollars bribing a random woman just because Stephen chose to -- No. He needed to calm down. Dare he say, “chill” out. 

He glanced at the floor beside him and found one of Stephen’s t-shirts. A worn, black _Metallica_ one that he’d left there from one of their previous _sessions_. It wasn’t dirty in the slightest, just slightly used. Still a bit gross, though.  

Karl had an idea. It wasn’t one that he would enjoy doing, but it would definitely lessen the tension from earlier. And possibly get him laid in the short time they had before Wong arrived. 

He changed into Stephen’s shirt. It was tight on him, the man was skinnier than he, and shorter. Did Stephen cut up all his shirts? He put on his tightest pair of jeans and his favorite pair of black, worn out leather boots he would wear when Stephen and him were out with the animals.  

When he glanced at the mirror, Karl almost recoiled in shock. It was strange, wearing clothes this dark and different. He wasn’t sure if he enjoyed it, especially considering the fact that the shirt barely made contact with the edge of his jeans, leaving a strip of skin for all to see, but he was sure Stephen would enjoy it.  

He was tempted to take a picture of himself. 

There was a knock on the door, Stephen’s voice asking is he was ready. Karl announced that he could come in. The man did, Karl looked back, and they both stared at each other in silent shock. 

“Woah,” was the only word to escape Stephen’s mouth. Karl felt a sense of pride because of it.

He was going to respond, but Stephen cut him off with a kiss. The man wasted no time touching the small expanse of skin that peeked under his shirt. Karl smiled against him.

“I wouldn’t mind if you returned the favor...” He said in a voice he knew Stephen liked. The American nodded wordlessly and left the room. He came back so quickly, Karl was surprised that the anyone could change that fast.

The American was dressed in brown, tight slacks and a white, button-up shirt. He was holding a dress jacket on one arm and their snacks in the other, which were dropped to the floor at the sight of him. Christ, Stephen was wearing a _belt_. It was like their stepped into a parallel dimension.  

“I didn’t know you owned clothes like this.” The quality was fine, maybe someday he could get Stephen some real clothes. 

“Yeah, it was for my senior graduation. Thought I could surprise you and show you that I don’t always dress like a complete asshole.” He shook his hips. “I’m gonna have to dress like this a lot more if I want to be a doctor, huh?” 

Karl chuckled. “I don’t know, I met some terrible people who dress like that. Most of the terrible people I know do, actually.” 

Stephen hummed in thought and pulled him closer. “Am I an exception?” 

“Perhaps, we shall see.” 

“So how does it feel dressing like a drummer in a really shitty garage punk band?” 

Karl tugged at his jeans. “They don’t have enough holes in them like yours, but they will do.” 

He felt Stephen pull away, “wait one second,” and then returned, holding a black leather choker on one hand and eyeliner on the other. 

“You are crazy if you think I am wearing that.” 

“Aw, come on, you gotta complete the look. Really stick to the role.” 

Karl pouted. “No.” 

“At least one?” 

Great, now Stephen was pouting. How was he supposed to resist that? “...Give me the choker.” 

Stephen gave him a shit-eating grin once he handed it to him. He never understood the appeal of the fashion trend until he saw Stephen wearing it occasionally, it accentuated his neck nicely, making Karl want to kiss it. Perhaps it could have the same effect on him as well. 

“Karl, you look so...” He began. The Romanian felt his heart race. 

“--Weird!” That wasn’t the answer he wanted. 

Karl sighed. “Should I take it off?” 

“What? No, it looks hot. It’s just unnerving to see you wearing my clothes... I could get used to it.” 

Karl fixed the man’s shirt-collar. “You clean up nicely as well.”  

“If we didn’t have to leave so soon, I’d totally suck your cock.” 

He licked his lips. “Well, maybe--”  

They were interrupted by the car honking loudly and a text alert noise coming from Stephen’s pocket. Wong was already downstairs, it seemed that they would have to reserve any activities for later. 

Stephen gave him a quick peck on his cheek and picked up their snacks again. The pair made their way downstairs and left, saying their goodbyes before Mrs. Strange could even register what they were wearing. 

Wong was leaning against his car, slightly newer than Stephen’s but still very much used, yet it was impeccably clean. He had his long hair in a ponytail, which somehow didn’t look ridiculous, and was wearing a striped t-shirt, a long, knitted jacket, pants that rolled up at the end to show off his long, Hawaiian print socks, and red-and-blue tinted sunglasses, like the colors movies used to watch movies in 3D back then.  

Wong looked over their outfits and spoke up, deadpan and unimpressed. “You two look like idiots.” 

Karl didn’t know how to respond, he was still slightly intimidated by the man. 

“Wong, check it out! I look posh and pretty now.” Stephen didn’t seem offended by his friend’s comment in the slightest. Karl tagged along behind, feeling self-conscious now.

“You always look pretty, Stephen. Get in the car.” 

Stephen did as told and sat in the backseat. Karl assumed it was because he could seat in the front with Wong, but the man stopped him before he could touch the handle.  

“No,” was all Wong said, standing in between him and the car door. Not offering a single explanation. 

Karl just slumped into the backseat next to Stephen instead. “...Why does he--” 

“He doesn’t like it when people fuck around with his radio.” 

Wong set in the driver’s seat and, thank God, buckled himself up. “I don’t want to listen to the same Bowie song for the four-hundredth time.” 

Wong tapped his phone and pop music started to blast from dashboard. Karl glanced at the screen, it was _Carly Rae Jepsen_. He wasn’t even singing or bopping his head along, just staring at the road in front of him as he drove, completely stoic whilst Jepsen’s bubblegum tunes played loudly through the speakers. It was the slightest bit terrifying.  

“We brought snacks, I got you some root beer.” Stephen, who was still unbuckled for some godawful reason, reached to the front and handed his friend his bottle.  

“Thanks, I hate it.” Wong replied, opening the bottle with one hand and drinking half of it. 

Karl _really_ didn’t understand their dynamic, but he was too busy looking away from the sight of the drink. The choker felt tight around his neck, he tugged at it until Stephen moved his hand away and adjusted it himself. He spoke in a whisper close to his ear, despite the fact that the music would have omitted his voice anyway. “You know you don’t have to wear it, right?” 

“I know, but you like it.” 

“You don’t have to change because of me, or act like someone else.” 

Stephen looked serious. Karl wasn’t prepared to talk about something like this in the back of a car.  

“I am not, I just put on a t-shirt. Besides, being here with you allowed me to act like myself for the first time.” 

The American smiled fondly. “I really like the real you. I also like fake, punk Karl. Do you think that if I sent you back to Romania with a shirt like that, your grandpa would have a heart attack?” 

It should be something he should laugh about, but Karl couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the morbid. “I can only dream.” He paused. “Do you think you’ve changed during the summer as well?” 

“Well, this is definitely the most interesting summer I’ve ever had. Maybe the most interesting year.” 

It was a hollow answer--it was barely even an answer. Karl should probably ask what he meant, but Stephen locked his lips with his own before he could say anything. He pressed his hand to Stephen’s hip and pulled him closer, sure that Wong was too busy focusing on the road and his music to notice the fact that Stephen was slipping a hand between his thighs, squeezing him through his tight jeans. Kissing and groping near someone else was so new, all Wong would have to do is turn his head back to notice them. Kark gasped at Stephen’s light touch, wondering how far the man would take this. Knowing him, Stephen was capable of giving him a handjob right then and there, even if Wong was watching them.

They were interrupted by a fist hitting the roof of the car. Wong stopped the car in the middle of the open road and turned back to face them. “If you guys start having sex in the back of my car, I’ll kill you.” 

Karl stood up straight immediately, legs crossed to hide the erection he was getting. Stephen just leaned back in his chair.  

The silence, or rather nothing but the sound of pop music, was getting boring. Karl didn’t understand why they had to go to a specific hill, he supposed it was because of sentiment. The place was special for him as well, it was where Stephen and him kissed for the first time, but Karl didn’t even know  _ what  _ the pair had planned for him. 

He sighed and held Stephen’s hand as he waited. He felt a reassuring squeeze in return, a warm smile directed at him. Wong noticed it through his rearview mirror and made sure to comment on how “gross” they were being, causing Stephen and him to bicker lightheartedly. Karl looked out the window, the wind of the night blowing through his hair and in between his fingertips. 

They finally reached the special hill soon after and, surprisingly enough, Wong opened the trunk of his car and took out a large blanket and a locked, steel box. 

Oh, were they having a romantic picnic together? He didn’t entirely understand why Wong needed to be here, but other than that, it was perfect. 

“Stephen, this is wonderful!” He said, taking out their bags and snacks and drinks, placing each of them neatly on top of the blanket. 

“I thought you would like it, babe.”  

When he looked to the side, Wong was toying with a lighter with on hand and opening the steel box with another. Did he bring candles? 

Whatever kind of candles he brought smelled very strange, he wasn’t sure whether or not he enjoyed it. 

Karl sat next to Stephen in the blanket and began to pour himself a cup of soda, which he’d become very fond of from his time here. He supposed it would be nice to pour some for his boyfriend their friend. Once finished, he glanced to the side to ask if they wanted anything else, only to find that the pair was busy rolling pieces of paper up. 

Wait. 

“Stephen, what--” 

His boyfriend smiled and took the cup from his hand. “Thanks!”  

Karl was tempted to knock it off his grip and let it stain his nice clothes. 

He placed the drinks to the side and tried to compose himself, watching as Stephen and Wong licked their rolls of papers as if they were sealing envelopes, only then registering what they were doing. 

He took the joint straight from Stephen’s hands and glared at him. “Are you _smoking drugs!?”_  

Stephen smirked. “Not all of them, just weed.” 

Before he could yell, as he very much intended to, Wong spoke up. “Wait, Stevie, did you seriously not tell him?” 

“It was a surprise!” 

“You sell this?!” 

For the first time since he met Wong, the long haired man gave him a nervous look. “The bookstore doesn’t bring my dad and I a lot of money. Dad thinks I do translation work online but i just sell this stuff around nearby towns.”  

Stephen was smiling, as if he’d just laughed. “Trust me, Wong has a bunch of street cred.” 

This earned him a half-angry stare from his friend. “Stephen, we live in Bumfuck, Nevada. I sell weed to twelfth graders. I don’t think I have any ‘ _street cred_ ’, we barely have streets.” 

Somehow, Stephen just continued to find all of this funny. 

Both he and Wong sighed heavily at the same time, though his own was far angrier than his friend’s. “I can’t believe this. I thought this was going to be a relaxing night.” 

“Well, yeah! This is supposed to help you relax, babe.” Stephen took the joint from his hands and showed it to him. “I thought you could take the edge off with this and we could all have some fun together.” 

“I am not going to give in to doing _drugs_ to have fun and spend time with you. This was supposed to be a night to fix things together.” Karl didn’t care if he was shouting, making some sort of scene, even if Wong was their only audience. He felt so angry at everyone, at the universe, even.  

“This is for fixing things! Wong and I use it to fix shit between us or that’s happening to me all the time, right buddy?” 

His friend looked up from where he was reading something on his phone, joint already on his lips. “Uh, no. I’m not going to be a part of this.”

Stephen frowned at his friend then gave his best, fake smile to his boyfriend. “Listen, it’s not harmful, trust me.” 

“This is peer pressure! You’re pressuring me into doing a drug!” 

“Karl, calm down. It’s barely a drug. Besides, this is the last time I can smoke before my classes start again so it’ll be mostly out of my body in case they do a drug test.” 

He huffed. “Congratulations, I don’t care. By all means, be the junkie doctor you wish you be, but leave me out of this.” 

He walked away before he could look at the man any longer. He heard Stephen yell something at his friend, perhaps kick something nearby. Karl just needed some air, away from Stephen and his stupid, idiotic, immature antics. He had to stop himself from getting wrapped around in this man’s finger.

It may be too late for that, thought. 

He was walking god knows where, maybe to the other side of the hill, he didn’t know. When he stopped, he hugged his arms, just then remembering that he was still wearing the tight and small shirt that belonged to Stephen, and felt a strong breeze hit him, suddenly feeling cold and angry and homesick. 

Mostly confused, actually, as to why his boyfriend would act like such an idiot on purpose.  

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, he ended up sitting on the grass and looking at the scenery in front of him to get his mind off everything. There was a faint rustle of grass behind him, panting that could have only come from one person. He was surprised Stephen actually came for him, he was sure that the man would have stayed with Wong and ignored his words. He was almost tempted to look behind him and meet his eyes. Almost. He was still angry.

And he quickly went from just angry to seething in rage when Stephen laid down on the grass in front of him, settling a hand to his head to keep it raised. He was pursing his lips together, as if he was trying not to smile, and placed his hand over his own.  

“Hey, ‘m sorry about earlier. How are you feeling?” His voice was soft, tired--and not for good reason. 

Karl looked at him in disgust. “Do you think I’m stupid?” He moved his hand away. “You’re high right now!” 

At his words, Stephen just gave him a smile, eyes half-lidded and clearly red, noticeable even in the moonlight. “Nah, dude. I just got --” He paused, either trying to regain his words or trying to stop himself from laughing. “ -- really bad allergies.” 

Alright, he’d had enough.  

He left without any hesitation this time, down the path where he’d originally come from, leaving Stephen behind to do whatever the hell he wanted to do. From what it seemed, Stephen decided that he was far more comfortable laying on the grass and staring at the sky than talking about this, though Karl didn’t want to talk to him in this state, or at all, at the moment. 

He toyed with the idea of locking himself in Wong’s car and sleeping the rest of the night away while the pair did as the pleased, but Wong was still smoking in the picnic blanket, and the smell wasn’t as terrible as he expected it to be.  

Karl sighed, rubbed his tired eyes, and walked over to the man, who was now reading a book, presumably too focused on it to care about his and Stephen’s argument, or pretending not to care out of decency. 

Without sparing a glance at him, Wong spoke up the instant Karl sat down beside him. “Did he try to lie and tell you he wasn’t high?”  

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Does he do that often?” 

“If he claimed it was his allergies, then he was trying to make a joke. It never ends well.” Wong unlit the joint he was smoking, pressing it down against the grass. Karl wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to smoke anymore, or just to make him more comfortable. Wong didn’t seem as affected by the drug, thought his eyes were still red and his speech was slightly slurred. “Stephen is... hard to explain. He is very laid-back and carefree during these instances, but he’s extremely focused and dedicated to the things he cares about.” 

Karl huffed, “He doesn’t seem to care about me much, then.” 

“Carol, trust me when I say that Stephen cares about you _a lot_. He told you he loves you, right? I’ve never seen him say that to anyone he’s dated. Even if he decided to say it _this early_ , for some reason.” Wong’s voice was heavy, he was staring right at him with an intense gaze. It was probably not the best conversation to have while pop music played lowly through the man’s phone in the background, but he was so momentarily taken aback by his words to notice. “He’s an impulsive idiot, but when he cares about someone, he cares a _lot._ And it’s only been a month since you two started dating, but there’s something he sees in you that he doesn’t see in anyone else.” 

He looked down, trying to analyze the situation. “I thought... Stephen told me you didn’t do relationships.” 

“I don’t, but it’s nice to have an outside perspective, don’t you think? I read a lot of romance novels too, enough to know that Stephen is like the main character in a young-adult novel that just starting to get some character development.” That gave Karl a laugh, and he noticed the corner of Wong’s lip raise just enough to signify a smile.  

“He... He’s my first, for everything. I am completely out of my debt with this, I don’t know what I am doing, was this worth picking a fight about?” 

“Definitely, it was stupid on his part. I thought he told you that we were going to be smoking.” Wong shrugged. “He’s also done this with most of the people he’s dated. Usually, they agree, Stephen shotguns them until they get horny, and they fuck in the back of some bushes or something. He probably just assumed you would be into that.”      

“‘ _Shotguns?’”_ Karl raised an eyebrow.  

“That’s when someone takes a puff of smoke and blows it inside the other person’s mouth.”

“Sounds disgusting.” 

Wong chuckled. “I taught him how to do it, actually. Well, I taught him most things.”  

Now this was extremely unexpected.  

Karl sat closer to Wong, a lighter smile on his face. “The two of you were in a relationship?”

Wong rolled his eyes. “From tenth to eleventh grade. First and only relationship for me but it wasn’t ever that serious. I know he might be slightly better now with his big hands or whatever, but he was a fumbling idiot when we dated. I suppose the girls we was with thought he was too pretty for them to tell him that he didn’t know what he was doing.”

He laughed, “Seriously?”

“He probably watched too much porn on his phone and assumed that was what he needed to do. It didn’t work, clearly, it was always more of a friends with benefits situation, anyway. Now we’re just friends and I realized that I don’t really fall in love with anyone, nor do I intend to.” 

Karl felt that he was a romantic at heart, he couldn’t imagine not feeling such an emotion ever, especially when he’d been raised so devoid of it. But it wasn’t any of his business, he didn’t push the subject any further. 

He also felt a slight tinge of relief that came after a fleeting moment of jealousy. He liked Wong, enjoyed his company, but didn’t want to think about his past relationship with Stephen any further.  

After a brief bout of silence, Wong tapped his steel box. “Why do you dislike it so much? Weed, I mean.” 

He clenched his jaw. “My parents are very traditional, and would disown me if they found out I ever did it. My grandfather especially. They say it is of the devil. I don’t like it, I don’t like being out of control in that way. I am fully aware it... is not as strong, but I don’t want to fall down that rabbit hole.” 

Wong tapped the box again in thought. “If you ever change your mind, I’ll give you some for free. I have to cut out Stephen anyway, he told me yesterday not to sell him any after tonight, no matter how much he offers me.” 

Karl didn’t know whether that was good or worrying. “Is it... addictive?” 

“No, but like I told you, he’s impulsive, but he takes his whole ‘future doctor’ thing really seriously. Most people thought he was going to end up coming back to the farm, but he’s always been a straight A student, and he’s doing it for his sister. He’ll be fine.” 

They hadn’t discussed Stephen’s future at all, now that Karl thinks about it. Actually, there were so many things Karl didn’t truthfully know about his boyfriend -- a month to learn it all seemed like so little. But he wanted to, dear God he wanted to. 

The pair turned around to see Stephen, still looking out of it but more like his usual self, smiling at fondly down at them. “You two having fun without me?” 

Wong returned to his uncaring persona once more, picking up his book again and leaning a hand to their snacks. “Just talking. Are you alright?” 

Stephen sat next to Karl and did the same as his friend, ripping open a bag of chips. “Really hungry.” 

Karl watched as his boyfriend devoured the bag of chips by the handful, grimacing. He decided to treat himself to his sweets instead, the air around them much lighter than before.  

Stephen could only last so long in such nice clothing, and had untucked his shirt, opened all of the buttons except the last one, and took off his shoes for some ungodly reason. Karl hoped he kept them nearby, as was trying his hardest not to feel like a doting mother because of his boyfriend’s shoes. 

He was becoming used to using the word ‘boyfriend’. Every time he remembered how invested he was in it all, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Maybe smoking would have helped after all, to have him forget the imminent doom somehow. No, he was being dramatic. Karl composed himself again and placed a hand on Stephen’s lower back, who was still leaning against him and talking away avidly with Wong. Or rather, to Wong. His friend was just nodding away at his words, most likely dissociating and not paying attention. 

“-- I know ‘Aja’ is their best album. It’s amazing, but ‘Can’t buy a Thrill’ is such a masterpiece, dude. I think ‘Aja’ is overall better but ‘Can’t buy a Thrill’ has my favorite individual songs. ‘Dirty Work’ is the best by far. Karl listened to it and he really liked it. Right, Karl?” 

Stephen smiled up at him, but it escaped once they locked eyes, as if he just remembered that they had argued earlier. “Um, yeah.” 

Karl didn’t want to spend his remaining days with Stephen like this, no matter how angry he had been earlier. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of Stephen’s head. “I honestly cannot remember which song you are talking about, you’ve shown me so many I forget which one is which.” 

“Y’know, the Steely Dan song!” At this, Stephen trying to sing a part from it, earning him a groan from Karl and several chips thrown to his face by Wong. “You guys aren’t supportive of my future in music at all.” 

“You would be a one-hit wonder, at best.” Their friend took a chip from his hair and ate it. Karl thought to do the same, leaving Stephen with a beaming laugh on his face, that didn’t come from his high.  

“Oh, babe, you could be the famous classical pianist and I’ll be the indie rock singer, and we fall in love, but it’s like a Romeo & Juliet situation.” Stephen said in a fanciful tone. Karl snorted. 

“Hopefully it will not end in double suicide.” He noticed that Stephen looked at him in thought. “You have read the story, right?” 

Of course, Stephen had to respond by reciting the entirety of Romeo’s iconic speech, from the second scene in the second act, just to brag. He stood up, overacting every movement, pretending that Karl was Juliet, obviously. Wong clapped afterwards, not looking entirely impressed, Karl tried to hold back a laugh while Stephen bowed in gratitude. 

“Thank you, thank you. I call that ‘The Advantages of Photographic Memory and Shitty Ninth Grade Plays.” He sat next to Karl once more, noticing that he was eyeing his bare chest, and winked. Wong noticed and groaned at their flirting. 

He would be contempt spending the rest of his days like this, he decided. Even with the initial tension, the hours that followed as the three spoke together made it worthwhile. It hurt to think that this was the first time people his age had willingly spent time with him, people willingly wanted to talk to Karl, and it wasn’t a ball where he was forced to impress, or a project where his classmates would usually ignore him. He had a friend and a lover, and he was sitting on a hill wearing the smallest, most ridiculously tight shirt he’d ever worn in his life, holding someone’s hand.

He’d spoken with his mother recently, she was still worried about his involvement with _ ‘the american farmers _ ’, clearly she would have preferred that he’d stayed with them. Not because she missed him, but because she believed he was having too much fun.

For a moment, she managed to get into his head, the thought of coming back to Romania completely different and uncaring scared him. Now, he was starting not to give a damn about her warnings. He felt so happy, so alive. Today he’d felt a range of emotions that never expected himself to ever feel so strongly. He didn’t want this summer to ever end, if it was guaranteed that every day would be like this.

The sky turned from a dark blue to a brighter orange, sunlight peeking from the horizon. Wong rubbed his eyes and yawned, so did he. Stephen, however, didn’t look tired in the slightest. 

“Fuck, Ma is gonna be so angry if I go home right now. She’s probably already up doing stuff.” 

Wong started to pick up his things, while Karl gathered the remaining trash and snacks. Stephen just watched them, stretching beside them, always so helpful. 

“Just stay at my house and you can go back home later today, I don’t want to drive you two to your house anyway.” 

Wong took his keys from his back pocket, but Karl took them away before he could even think about walking to the car. “I can drive us to your house.”

Their friend eyed him up and down for a moment. “Suit yourself.” 

Stephen gawked. “Woah, hey! You never even let me get in the front seat.” 

“‘Cause you’re a shit driver.” Wong settled in the backseat. The instant Stephen sat beside him, he rested his head on the man’s lap and closed his eyes, clearly tired. Stephen didn’t protest. 

Karl would be lying if he didn’t feel like a parent taking his kids home after grounding them, part of him was still angry at Stephen, but it was four in the morning, far too early to even think about the matter anymore. He just wanted a surface to sleep in properly and for his boyfriend’s arms to wrap around him while he slept. 

He was so used to constant contact from him, spoiled with it. Karl loved it. 

The drive to Wong’s house took a while. Their friend was fast asleep on Stephen ‘s lap, allowing them to turn on their own music as they pleased. Stephen almost dared to move to the front seat once they reached a red light, but Karl warned him against it, not wanting to get on Wong’s bad side.  

They arrived and Wong groggily opened the door to his house, immediately going to his room and waving a hand to the attic, where the two of them would sleep. Stephen looked like he already knew the drill, looking as chipper as ever, and held Karl’s hands as they went up the stairs. 

The pair took off their clothes, Stephen in his underwear and Karl still wearing a shirt for some decency, and wrapped their limbs together on the mattress. 

Which obviously lead to Stephen kissing him. The man couldn’t control himself for more than five minutes. 

He pulled away with a yawn, Stephen giggled at it. “Not tonight.” 

The American nudged him. “It’s the morning, actually.” 

“Do not be a smartass.” Karl had his eyes closed, chest rising and falling calmly, but he doubted he would actually fall asleep. “Talk to me.”

He felt Stephen shuffle next to him and he moved, until he has his back against his chest as was wrapped in Stephen’s arms. Karl congratulated himself in his head. Victory achieved.

“You know, Wong and I had a bet when you arrived.”  

“Did you now?” Karl croaked out. 

“He bet me an eighth of an ounce if I managed to fuck you and still have you like me for more than a week.”

Karl snorted. “And what makes you think I like you?” 

“Shut up.” Stephen pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “You were staring at me since the first day, ‘specially when I wore that one crop-tops.”

“Was I that obvious?” He remembered that shirt vividly, it was the source of a lot of confusion and interesting dreams during his first week.

“A little, then again, I’m not exactly the king of subtlety either.” 

“I know, your flip your hair a lot when you were trying to flirt, you looked ridiculous.”

“No, I didn’t!” Stephen scoffed and sounded genuinely offended. Karl laughed again

“You did! You are such a stereotype!  Wannabe rocker, hair covers you eyes, the black clothes and the tight jeans--”

“Okay, I get it, posh-gay icon.”

Karl shrugged. “I am pretty sure the only posh, gay, black, Romanian boy I have ever heard of. Not exactly a stereotype.”

Stephen sighed and accepted his defeat. “Fine. God, you sound like my mom so much sometimes.”

Karl wanted to quote Freud and tease the man, but he wasn’t sure if Stephen would even understand the joke. 

His boyfriend paused. “You know... I’m thinking of cutting it soon.”

He perked up. “Really? How?”

“Something that doesn’t ruin my eyesight. I’m gonna be training in hospitals with real people sooner or later, I have to have my eyes working at their fullest potential.” 

Karl turned around to face him, resting his hand on the man’s cheek. “I bet you will look very handsome.” 

Stephen blushed. “You wanna get a haircut with me? Your hair’s getting longer, kinda... afro-ish.”

Karl rolled his eyes. “I doubt there are any barbers nearby who can properly cut  _ my  _ sort of hair.” He reached out to touch it, Stephen was right, it was taking shape. “I think I like it this way.”

“Well, you look real pretty with it.” Stephen gave him a toothy grin. 

“Pretty?" 

“I mean, you’re handsome, but you’re real pretty too.”

Karl took the compliment to heart.

He yawned again, he might be falling asleep after all. 

Stephen took note and snuggled against him, still a ridiculous, soft smile on his face. His head was on his shirt, hands wrapped around his hips now. The man will probably not fall asleep any time soon, and he’ll crash on his his bed later today. Christ, he was so ridiculous.

Karl closed his eyes and wished that all his days could end like this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys celebrate Independence Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for the long wait, hopefully this chapter makes up for it with all the shit that happens.
> 
> it is very likely that there wont be a new chapter next week because of all the work i have to do. if you follow me on twitter, i'll let ya'll know.
> 
>  **SPOILERS** warning: physical violence

From all the American movies and books Karl knew about, he had assumed that the guy would at least know how special today was. Especially when Stephen woke him up in the morning with an air horn to his face.  

Karl almost punched him. Almost. He didn’t move his hands or anything, but Stephen could see it in Karl’s face. Instead, he gave him a signature glare and stood up to put something in his hair. It smelled like coconuts. 

“You better have a good reason for doing that.” He said, changing into something more presentable, unfortunately. Stephen was getting a pretty good view of his ass as he rummaged through his clothes for some trousers.  

“It’s a special day. Probably the most important day you’ll have in your ‘ _American cultural experience’_. Can you guess what day it is?”  

Finally fully awake, Karl looked back at him and huffed. Stephen was wearing a t-shirt with the american flag. Thought, to fit his usual style, he had to roll up the sleeves and holding on to his skin extremely tightly. His dad didn’t like it when he wore those sort of shirts around guests, but he was eighteen now, and it wasn’t like he could use these sort of shirts anywhere other than a party. Karl shrugged, “Um, I’m guessing it’s some sort of national holiday.” 

“Come on, how don’t you know this? It’s the fourth of July!” 

Karl stared at him blankly. 

“Independence day? The day we left the British and became the U.S of A? Come on, this is basic stuff.” 

His boyfriend walked up to him with crossed arms, looking unimpressed. “Do you know when Romania left Communism? Go on, tell me when  _ Ziua Marii Unir _ _ i _ is celebrated.” 

Stephen responded with a half smile, hoping it would alleviate the situation. Thankfully, Karl only rolled his eyes back. “Why would I know or care about your independence? It didn’t affect me.” 

“I don’t know... I just thought everyone knew. It’s in a bunch of movies, it changed history.” 

“I probably learned it once and forgot about it.” With the look Karl gave him, he thought that it would earn him a speech, or a rant. Thankfully, he just got a pat on his chest and another expression from Karl that called him an idiot without having to say it out loud. “Look up the word ‘ _americentrism’_ sometime, I believe you would benefit from it.” 

Surprisingly enough, Karl gave him a quick peck on his lips. He must be in a good mood. “So, how do we celebrate this holiday?” 

“A bunch of people come over, gorge themselves on burgers and hot dogs and then we blow shit up.” 

Karl raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t worry. It’s just fireworks, though.” 

“Ah, that sounds... very American. How many people?” 

“Almost half the town, actually. Since we got the biggest farm, a bunch of families come over and bring their own food. It’s a lot of fun, actually. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.” 

He wrapped his arms around Karl’s waist, not looking forward to the fact that he won’t be able to do so for the rest of the day in front of everyone. “I’m not sure, you have told me about a lot of things you think I’ll like and I end up hating.” 

“Well, third time’s the charm. Or fourth. Fifth -- whatever.” There was a bit of chatter coming through the window, people were starting to arrive. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some people.” 

The pair had breakfast by themselves. Karl had made the effort to look extra presentable for the guests, wearing his expensive gold watch and belt just to show off. By the time they were done and idly chatting over coffee, his mom ran into the kitchen to gather more baked goods from the oven, asking them to come join her and help with setting up decorations and food. The Strange family took this holiday seriously, especially his mom, who had a silent, ongoing competition with the other mothers in town for who could be the best cook. He thought it was dumb since his mom was already the best cook he could think of, but at least he always got to eat way more pie than he could ever dream. His father did the same with the other dads who spent all day behind the grill, discussing perfect barbecue recipes or whatever it was that dads did. No matter how much his dad had tried to get him into grilling, or any of the “manly” stuff that didn’t have to do with cars, he preferred to eat rather than cook, and it seemed like Donna was following his example. 

After a while, people started parking their cars and crowding the farmland right as the clock hit noon, expecting excited greetings and looking for a place to display the food they brought.  

As it turned out, Karl transformed completely when he was being greeted to the families. When Stephen introduced him to Mr. and Mrs. Smirl, he kissed the wife’s hand in greeting. It impressed her enough to blush and go on and on about how charming Karl was. With the Richards, he made some political joke with a fake smile that made Mr. Richard laugh. The Sanchez boys talked to him briefly about soccer, something Stephen didn’t know jack-shit about, and were talking animatedly about Spain’s performance in recent games. He had no idea where Karl got this knowledge, he didn’t recall him talking about soccer at least once. 

All while managing to charm all of the families with his accent. Stephen doesn’t blame them, probably all Americans have an obsession with other people’s accents. It wasn’t even that strong, at least not when Karl and him spoke, unless they were having sex and Karl lost all semblance of language as a whole, but he probably made it stronger for dramatic effect. 

He walked away, not sure whether or not Karl was actually enjoying the conversation, but Donna was sitting on one of the tables with a friend. Might as well join them. 

Ignoring the look that his sister gave him, obviously begging him to leave her alone, he sat back and stole a few of her fries. “Hey, what you up to?” 

“I was talking to Jackie.” 

Her friend -- or girlfriend, Stephen hadn’t caught up with his little sister’s drama recently -- excused herself for a moment to go talk to her parents. He didn't think she liked him all that much. Donna blamed him, obviously. Not that he liked Jackie much either, she called him a “fake hipster” once.  

The girl walked away after giving Donna a light squeeze on the shoulder and left the siblings alone. Donna frowned at him. “Great, what do you want?” 

“Just wanted to check on my sister, sheesh. What’s up with you today?” 

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Where’s Karl?” 

He threw a fry at her. “Hey, remember to use his fake name.” 

“Right. I forgot we’re hiding a Russian spy in our house.” She said with a snort, taking the french fry that had landed on her hair and eating it. Karl would hate it. 

“He’s Romanian.” 

Donna smiled, he wondered if it was her first one of the day. “You sure? How can you tell? What if he isn’t even from Europe? All of the sudden, you find him talking to a secret phone in a British accent. Or a Wakandan accent. Or worst of all...” 

Stephen knew exactly where this was going.

He squinted his eyes, a curve on his lips. “What if he’s Canadian?” 

Donna gave him an overly-dramatic shocked gasped that made both of them laugh. He took a sip of her pop now. Karl would always complain that the two of them would steal his food as he ate it, he hadn’t noticed how often he did it until now. “Karl’s fine, just talking to some of the guests and being fancy, as usual.”

“He’s so...  _ period drama _ . It’s like he popped out of a fucking Jane Austen book.”

Stephen shrugged. “Hm, he’s more Brontë to me.” 

“Nerd.” 

“You’re just mad ‘cause I got an A in lit and you have a C.” It earned him a well deserved shove to his shoulder, but he didn’t really mind all that much. His eyes trailed off to where Karl was standing, still talking to one of the town’s people about something. He looked confident and happy, Stephen couldn’t help but smile until he noticed that Donna was looking at him. 

She gave him a smug look. “You really like him, huh?” 

Stephen took another sip of her pop, not answering the question. She continued to press the subject on, nudging his shoulder as she did so. “Oh-em-gee, you’re head over heels, aren’t you? I wish I could tell people.” 

He glared at her. “Don’t, I already got enough shit from telling you. I’m trusting you to keep this a secret, especially from ma and dad.” 

“Fine. _Fine,_ I won’t. Just weird seeing you in a relationship that’s lasted an entire month without _too_ many fuck ups on your part.” 

“Trust me, I’ve had my fair share.” He glanced back at his boyfriend. Karl was happily gathering sweets from the baked good tables, mostly from his mother’s cooking. Now that he thought about it, Karl had probably helped his mom with some of the baking in the past few days. He carried a plate of brownies and a piece of pie on one hand and a bottle of soda on the other. Stephen waved at him, calling his attention, and Karl sat between Stephen and his sister. The man placed a napkin on his lap before eating, and Stephen felt a rush of heat rise to his cheeks at the sight. Donna was right, he was so far gone.  

“Got tired of kissing ass?” He asked him, his usual smirk on his face.  

“I come from a family of politicians, that’s what we do best. It is not my first time doing so in an event filled with people, just that this one is outdoors and doesn’t have a strict dress code.” He undid the first button of his shirt -- what a rebel. “I’m tired, a woman started poking at my accent me and asking me to say things in German.”  

Donna raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” 

“Anything, really. I taught her how to say ‘ _dog’s anus’_ in German but told her it mean ‘good evening’.” 

Man, Stephen was proud of him. 

“So, babe, I thought I could show you the lake I’ve been meaning to take you to for ages.” Stephen stole a brownie as he spoke. Karl didn’t even flinch, he was used to it by now.  

“I thought we were celebrating today, I want to see the fireworks.”  

Donna grimaced. “Ew, he calls you ‘ _babe_ ’?” 

“I allow it -- most of the time.”  

“Anyway,” Stephen gave his sister a dramatic glare. “That doesn’t happen until midnight, we have time to kill. Plus, I want to see you in some swim trunks.” He waggled his eyebrows and heard gagging noises from Donna in the background. 

“I don’t think I brought any.” It wasn’t a yes or a no -- He knew how to play this game. 

“Then that gives us a perfect opportunity to go skinny dipping.” 

More gagging noises. 

Karl hummed in thought. “I’ll consider it.” 

That was definitely a yes. Christ, Stephen wanted to kiss him. There were too many people around them; he slipped a hand under the tablecloth and squeezed his thigh instead.

At that moment, his dad passed by holding a plate of hot dogs. Slightly burnt from the grill, just how he always made them. He gave the three a pointed look, he’d just caught Donna in the middle of making her gagging noises. Stephen huffed out a laugh.  

“Enjoying your first fourth of July, Karl?” He asked, setting some of the hot dogs down on the table for the three of them to eat.  

“It’s nice so far. I’m looking forward to the fireworks.” He shrugged. 

“You ever eaten hot dogs before?” 

“Of course, just not... very often. We eat other kinds of sausages more in my home.”  

Both Donna and him snorted at the word _sausage._ His father and his boyfriend noticed. “Well, hopefully you like my special recipe. Trust me, these will be the best sausages you’ve eaten so far.” 

He left after ruffling Stephen’s hair. He protested, fixing it immediately afterward, and made sure to speak once he was sure his dad was out of earshot. “They’re all store bought, he just says he made them ‘cause he was the one behind the grill.” 

Karl didn’t seem to mind, he actually took one hot dog for himself in each hand and took a bite from one of them. He liked it. 

Donna ate while she tapped away on her phone. Stephen just watched his boyfriend with a smirk on his face. “You really like them, huh?”

Karl smiled at him, wiping the edges of his lips before he spoke. “Yes, it’s delicious.”

He held up two fingers with an innocent smile in his face. “Think you can eat two at a time?” 

The Romanian looked down at the food in his hands and opened his mouth. “Um. Maybe--” 

He almost had both sausages in his mouth when he noticed that Stephen was stifling a laugh beside him, a dumb smile on his face. He wished he would have taken a picture before Karl stopped to question him. “What are you laughing about?” 

Stephen glanced at the hot dogs then back at him. Karl scoffed. “Wait-- Ugh! Shut up. Is that the only thing you ever think about?” 

It earned him a soft punch on his shoulder. “I’m eighteen, what did you expect?” 

He heard a shutter of a camera behind them. For a moment, there was a brief panic that someone was taking a picture of the two of them flirting. Turned it out it was just Donna taking a selfie next to them.  

“Well, that was gross. I gonna leave before you two start sucking face.” 

Before she walked away, Stephen held her wrist. “Hey, you took your meds right?” 

Donna gave him her usual scoff. He was serious this time, he hated it when she reacted this way. Stephen didn’t understand why it was so hard for anyone to remember to take just a few pills every day, but alas, he quickly became Donna’s own alarm clock, going as far as to texting her once a day back when he’s in New York. “I’ll take them later, relax.” 

He sighed. “Donna, please. Just take them as soon as possible, okay?” 

She would, eventually. She always did -- at least when he told her to, she never listened to their mom when she reminded her. Stephen didn’t understand why, must be just her pre-teen bullshit, but he’d be lying if it didn’t worry him all the time.  

The young girl looked away from him, desperate to get away. “Yeah, fine. I was going to my room right now, anyway.” 

She probably wasn’t, but Stephen was grateful either way.

“What does she have, exactly?” Karl asked. He’s answered this question dozens of times before, both to nosy neighbors and to doctors alike. He knew the disease front to back, left and right -- and it pissed him off just thinking about it. It pissed him off that he couldn’t do anything other than memorize facts. 

He rubbed at his temple, trying to recall the usual speech he always gave. 

“She was born with chronic migraines, and they were really bad. Sometimes she had to miss school or she was bedridden for days. She vomits or gets dizzy in the worst cases, I used to stay home and take care of her when ma and dad were working in the farm.” Stephen pursed his lips. “Then it just got worse. Doctor said that it could be that she was taking too many pain relievers or maybe it was puberty, but one day she got a headache so bad she couldn’t walk, she was vomiting everywhere. We had to take her for the hospital for almost four days. Doctors think it was _status migrainosus_ but she already had chronic headaches all the time.”  

Karl paused. “She mentioned headaches to me before but I did not know they were... chronic.” 

“Yeah, well... She’s good at hiding it now. Why did you think she’s always cooped up in her room all the time?” 

His boyfriend fell silent, Stephen continued. “It first happened a year and a half ago. I know the exact date and everything. It’s only happened once since then, but that was in December, and it’s been a while.” 

“Is it fatal?” His voice was softer was usual. If he wasn’t so head over heels, he would be angry at the tone. Both Donna and him were so tired of hollow sympathy. 

He shook his head. “No. There hasn’t been any cases of anyone dying from it but it’s dangerous. I’m just scared she’ll get it at the wrong place in the wrong time.” 

“I’m sorry if I keep probing on but... Is there a cure?” 

Stephen clenched his fists in his lap. “Not yet, but I’ll find it.” 

For some reason, this made Karl smile a little. Stephen didn’t understand what was so amusing about it. “You are going to your second year of medicine. It’ll be a while before you can even practice on people, let alone find cures.” 

He wondered if this was the first time he’d ever glared at Karl, usually it was the other way around. Either way, it wiped the smile off his face quickly. “ _I’m going to find a cure._ ” He said, enunciating every syllable. “Donna and I already agreed that I would be the one to do her surgery someday. And then I’ll do it to everyone else who has it.” 

Karl’s face was unreadable, he would have preferred if he just flat out called him stupid instead. That’s what everyone else said, anyway. “Look, I know you don’t believe in me--” 

“I never said that.” Karl cleared his throat. “I just... did not know you were this passionate about this.” 

The two fell into a mutual silence, awkward and loud from all the people chatting around them. Stephen sighed and rubbed his temple. “No one in school believed me when I said I was going to be a doctor, not even Wong at first. I don’t get it, I always got straight A’s and was voted ‘Most Likely To Succeed’, whatever that means. I was a fucking _mathlete_ , for god’s sake. But everyone just assumed I would stay in this farm for the rest of my life.” 

Karl reached for his hand beneath the table, stroking his palm his with thumb. He didn’t want to feel like this, especially not today of all days. Especially not in front of Karl, he was supposed to be the strong one. 

“You’re going to be a great doctor, Stephen. I’m sure of it.”  

His mother would say it to him constantly, he’d never believe it. It always sounded so hollow, something a mother was forced to say to their child. 

He trusted it more when it came from Karl. 

Stephen didn’t know what to say. He gulped and whispered out a ‘thanks’.  

“You’re also a very good brother. I’m an only child, I rarely see my cousins. For such a big family, it feels more like distant acquaintances. Your family may be small, but it feels real.” Karl was looking down at his empty plate. “You want to be a doctor to help people, to help your sister. I think that’s noble and beautiful.”  

God damn it, he was going to end up crying, wasn’t he? 

“And a tiny bit sexy.” 

Scratch that. He barked out a laugh, wishing that he could kiss Karl right there and then. He squeezed his hand instead. “You know, her headaches weren’t actually why I chose to become a doctor.” 

Karl smiled fondly at him. “Do tell.” 

“I think I was eleven, she must have been about nine or eight, and we were roller skating down the street. I was teaching her how to do it, actually. She was going too fast down a hill and twisted her ankle and scratched her knee. We were close to our house, so I carried her in, cleaned her cuts and wrapped her ankle with an ace bandage.” He remembered it like it was yesterday. He would tell Donna jokes so she would stop crying and promise that she’d give her a cookie. It was the best feeling ever. “Then I decided I didn’t want to be an astronaut, or an actor, or a rock star. I like helping people. And the money doesn’t hurt.” 

Loud music started to play from the speakers, a playlist Stephen made himself for the occasion, as he did every year since he admitted that he didn’t want to listen to nothing but Tim McGraw for hours on end. Michael Jackson played in the background instead, causing the entire mood to shift into something lighter. He looked to his side and Karl was tapping his foot, bobbing his head to the beat. 

“You wanna dance?” He asked, trying to change the subject. Not to mention that he would probably give all of his money to watch Karl dance. 

He actually considered it for a moment, surprisingly enough. “Not in front of a crowd.” 

Stephen moved closer to him. “I know a place where we can be alone. Maybe boogie down.” 

Karl almost snorted on his cup of soda. “Please don’t ever call it that again.” 

“What do you want me to say, that we’re gonna _engage in intercourse_?”   

“I think that’s even worse!” 

 _Young Americans_ by Bowie started playing, which was probably ironic in a way. Karl was still laughing, looking perfectly carefree and unguarded for once. Stephen licked his lips, all of his self control focusing on not making out with him. It was almost perfect.  

Until Nick decided to show up, of course. He had the worse timing in history. Thankfully enough, he hasn’t noticed either of them yet, but Stephen knew he was looking for him. He didn’t have to deal with his shit right now, especially not today. 

“Alright, let’s go to the lake.” 

Karl gave him an odd look, wondering what was going on. Stephen pointed behind them; he understood immediately. “Wait, I don’t have a towel.” 

“We have the sun to dry us up, come on.” 

“Stephen, wait--” 

He lightly pushed Karl forward from the crowd. “Come _on_.”  

Defeated, Karl and him managed to sneak past the crowd to the back of their house, where the animals had been moved for the day. Their home was surrounded by acres of flat plains. There was a path made from years of walking along the same way to the lake and the two made their way through it, away from the loud music and the crowd of neighbors and townspeople that Stephen didn’t entirely care about knowing that well. 

Karl was the first one to speak up. “We should have brought snacks.” 

“Well, we had to leave quickly. No time to stock up on some snacks.” 

The Romanian gave him another pause. “What happened between you and Nick?” 

Stephen groaned and walked faster, making Karl have to jog to catch up with him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

He heard his boyfriend sigh. “Fine, don’t tell me then.” 

“Listen, all you need to know is that I thought he was my friend but he’s... more close minded than I thought he would be. And he’s going to New York to study too. I’ll worry about avoiding his bullshit back when I’m in college.” 

“Did he do something to you?” 

They were at the lake, just a bit larger than an Olympic swimming pool. Usually there were a couple of people in it, especially on the weekends, who would ask his dad permission to cross his property and use it on the hot summer days. Since the party was near their house, they had it all for themselves.  

“I just... can’t trust everyone. Especially not him. That’s all I’m gonna say.” 

Karl was clearly unsatisfied with his answer, but he let it slide. Already frustrated, Stephen began to take off his clothes and threw his phone on top of the pile. His boyfriend’s expression changed from disappointed to incredibly interested.  

Stephen looked over his shoulder and winked. “Happy fourth of July.” He said, letting his last bit of clothes fall to the ground and diving headfirst into the lake with a splash.  

When he swam back up, he saw Karl panicking on the wooden dock. “You scared me!” 

“I’ve done this since I was a baby, don’t worry.”  

He dipped his fingers into the water, testing the temperature. The sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, making the lake a bit warmer than usual. “Is it... dirty?” 

“It sure isn’t clean.” Stephen laughed and wiped some hair from his face. “But you won’t get sick, or any leeches. At most you’ll feel a fish swim near you or step on some mud.” 

Karl visibly shuddered at the last part, but ultimately agreed. Carefully, he took off his clothes and set it folded next to his own. He was still wearing his underwear, unfortunately.  

“You know how to swim, right?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“You know that keeping your underwear on won’t stop any bacteria from going into your dick.” 

Karl grimaced. “Stop talking before I change my mind.” 

He held Karl’s hand as he got into the water. The man immediately grabbed onto him. “It’s... been awhile since I have swam, actually.” 

Stephen swam with one hand, the other holding Karl by his waist, until he found a pretty big log floating in the middle of the lake that he could grab onto. “What, your parents didn’t think swimming is a skill every posh boy should have?” 

“I’m not posh! Besides, I do not have a lot of free time. If I could ever go to a pool, it was because we were in a hotel that had a pool, or something of the sort.” The pair held on to either side of the log, floating idly on the middle of the lake. Stephen cocked his head to the side.  

“Have you talked to them lately?” 

Karl fell silent, he looked guilty. He definitely has been avoiding them, not talking to them as little as possible. “Hey, it’s fine. We can talk about something else.” 

And they did. Stephen rambled about another album that he wanted to show to Karl once they went back to his house, describing each song and lyrical intent in detail. He wasn’t entire sure if the guy even cared about what he said, but Karl was the only one who would at least pretend to listen to his long-winded speeches. In return, Karl complained about a book he was about to finish that had been assigned to him by his grandfather. It was the _Mio Cid_ , and he’d been forced to read it in it’s original 13th Spanish century form. Karl obviously looked for the translation in Wong’s bookstore. 

“What books would you read, if you bad the choice?”  

Karl smiled. “I do, my parents don’t know that I can buy ebooks through my phone with my money.” 

Stephen snorted. “Shit, you’re such a bad boy. A real rebel.”  

“I... enjoy fantasy books. Ones with magic.” 

“Like Lord of the Rings?”

“That was one of the first I read on my own, actually. My boarding school had a Romanian translation in the library. There was one winter holiday where I had to stay, for complicated reasons, so I read all the Tolkien books they had.” 

Karl looked embarrassed whenever he talked about the things he enjoyed, as if he’d been taught that it was childish to have interests. Stephen rested his hand over his and urged him to continue. “I have always been fascinated about how different writers weave their own versions of magic. Tolkien barely described it, Rowling described a lot of it. I especially like it writers create entire societies based on it, or when they explain exactly where the magic comes from, it is fascinating.” 

“I expected you to be more of a fan of, like, Austen books. You like like that romantic stuff, right?” 

“I think Mr. Darcy was the first man I fell in love with.” Karl sighed dreamily. “He is perfect.” 

Stephen smirked. “Who’s the second?” 

Karl curved his lips and looked down, suddenly extremely focused on the log water surrounding them. He squeezed his hand, thought. It was all that Stephen needed.

“Have you ever thought of being a writer?”

“Stephen...” 

“No, seriously. I could see you as a famous writer, writing famous novels about magic and fantasy. The next J.K Rowling. Or as a professor. The sexy professor.”

Karl shook his head. “I don’t want to be ‘the next’ anyone, I want to be me.” 

“Your family sure as hell isn’t allowing you to be you.” 

“I don’t have a choice in this, they would never listen or allow me, especially not my Grandfather. I am my mother’s sole heir, they expect me to become a politician just like time.” Karl said through gritted teeth. Moments later, his face fell along with his mood. “Besides, I am not creative, I don’t have any passions. I’m just a pawn for them and I can’t do anything about it.” 

He had not realized how much time had passed since they arrived at the lake. The sun was setting, orange and yellow surrounding the sky. The two of them swam to the dock, not keen on staying in the water after dark, but not interested in going back to the party just yet. Karl rested on the wooden dock, his back against the surface, his face turned away from Stephen, who was sitting next to him. Water fell down their skin, dripping to the wood and back into the lake, the only sound that surrounded them came from grasshoppers and frogs, and the slight fresh breeze of night time wind.  

“I need to learn how to shut the fuck up. I’m sorry.” Stephen cleared his throat and pulled his knees to his chest. Not feeling self-conscious, he didn’t _do_ self-conscious, but he felt cold and guilty and terrible for yet again ruining what was supposed to be a good day. “I just hate the fact that you can’t be who you want to be. And you have passions, Karl, you’re a passionate person. You just think you aren’t creative because no one has allowed you to do so.” 

Karl still had his back turned to him, looking off into the distance.  

“You’re smarter than anyone I know. And stronger, have you seen your arms?” That made him chuckle, at the very least. “Maybe you don’t think you can stand up to your family, but I think you can. You don’t have to do what anyone tells you to do.” 

That didn’t earn him an answer either. He waited and waited for something, even the sound of crying or Karl angrily stomping away would have been enough. Instead, he got dead silence, just the quiet rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest as he breathed.  

Until he felt Karl’s arms wrap around him, his head resting on his shoulder. They were completely dry now, though Karl’s still felt damp as he ran his fingers through it. “Are you hugging me or are you just cold? 

He felt a smile against his skin. “I know your heart is in a good place, but there are things you don’t understand. You have a good family and a straight path to your future. I... do not have that privilege.” 

“I just wish you could get away from them forever and stay with me.”  

Karl leaned back momentarily. Just then did Stephen realize the severity of his words. He opened his mouth and closed it, no response leaving his throat. A kiss was pressed to the side of his neck, soft and reassuring. “I know, I wish for the same thing. But we only have four more weeks, then you return to New York and I will probably return to Europe, or find another family that can care for me in the the mean time.” 

“We could run away together. Fuck off to, like... Nepal or something.” 

Karl huffed. “You’re very selfish, you know that.” 

“Can’t help it, I want you all for myself.” 

Karl smiled and rested a hand to his heart. “You’re also a sentimental fool.” 

Right, there was point in dancing around the inevitable. The actual reason they came to the lake in the first place, why they were both naked, or almost naked.  

Stephen leaned to kiss him, slow and deep, his hand resting on Karl’s chest and moving lower with every shiver of Karl’s breath against him. He kissed his jaw, the curve of his neck that always made him gasp. Karl pulled him closer, until Stephen was straddling his thighs, his cock half-hard and pressed against Karl’s navel. If they were almost entirely naked, he might as well take advantage of the situation. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked. He knew the answer, he usually always did, he just liked hearing Karl talk when he was like this. He lost all poise and control, and instead was dating his eyes and licking his lips at the sight above him.  

Just weeks ago he would have been so flustered by the slightest touch, finishing a bit too early and aching for another round. Now, Karl was pushing his briefs down and pressing their cocks together, one hand grasping his hips and the other curled around the two of them, stroking while Stephen moved his hips against him. 

“Karl...” He breathed out, leaning down to kiss his again and thrusting his hips into the man’s fist. He heard Karl pant beneath him, his eyes were closed from the pleasure.  

They weren’t going to last very long. Or at least Stephen wasn’t. He was moving desperately. Trying to get his mind off things, there were distant sounds of the first fireworks whistling and exploding in the sky. Stephen threw his head back and groaned, feeling himself near completion. “Fuck, baby, that’s it.” 

The word always had an effect on Karl, it was definitely his weakness. He hear a whimper escape Karl’s lips, which were parted and panting harder now. They kissed again, hands roaming all over each other until he was grabbing Karl’s shoulders and felt the other man’s finger dig into his hip bones.  

Then there was a nearby rustle of leaves, a bush being moved and quick footsteps moving that sounded distant with each one. 

The two of them stopped dead in their tracks. Stephen felt his heart practically beating in his throat from the shock. Karl’s eyes were wide-open and his lips were sealed tight in a thin line, afraid to move. 

“Was that an animal?” Karl whispered, clearly shaken. 

Stephen tried to make something up to reassure him. “We get coyotes around here sometimes, could have been that.”  

Karl wasn’t convinced at all. He pushed Stephen out of the way and started to put on his clothes, clearly not caring that he was still half-hard, though he doubted that would last long for either of them. 

Stephen did the same. Once they were fully clothed, they walked back the same path they took to get here. He noticed Karl kept a distance and had his head held up, looking straight ahead of him, as if Stephen wasn’t with him at all.  

Stephen stopped him, grabbing him by the hem of his shirt. “Wait--” 

He was going to confront him about it, ask him if he was going to ignore him for a few days once more. It was what dreaded the most, that they would have a falling out _now_ , especially when their days felt so short and fast. But Karl looked like he was two seconds away from breaking down, he could almost heart the man’s rapid-fire heartbeat. No, that could wait. It didn’t even have to happen at all. 

“...I have a shortcut.” Stephen decided on saying instead. Karl nodded and followed him. 

They strayed off the path and went through the cornfield instead, at least here it would be harder for anyone to find them, since his parents specifically told all the guests not to go into the field. Karl knew this and had taken the opportunity to walk closer to him. Stephen held on to his hand; Karl held back a bit too tightly. 

They were close to his house. Fireworks were now unabashedly being lit one after the other, explosions and cheers hid any sort of sound they could have made. Stephen stopped and turned to face his boyfriend, his friend. He hated seeing him like this, hated the fact that any bit of hope the man had would always be ripped away so quickly. 

Even with the night sky, he knew Karl was trying his hardest not to cry. The guy hated crying, hated it when other people saw him this way. Stephen placed a hand on either of his cheeks so they were facing each other. “It’s going to be all right.” 

It only took a short phrase before Karl felt the last drips of poise and sanity leave his body. He was shaking his head, looking everywhere but at him, the sounds of fireworks clearly making him panic. Stephen wasn’t sure why, but he was flinching every time one sounded in the sky. Maybe it reminded him of gunshots. 

“No, no it isn’t. Oh God, someone saw us. Someone saw us having sex and then _they will know_. Stephen, they’ll know and they will take me away from you, oh God -- Oh God....” Karl kept wiping his face, keeping the tears inside his eyes and now falling to his cheeks. “They’ll kill me, they’ll disown me.”  

Stephen held him, pulling him close to his chest so he wouldn’t fall to the ground of faint from the panic. Karl tensed for a moment, realizing then that he was being held, then buried his face into Stephen’s shirt, breathing in and out in harsh, shuddering breaths. 

“It’s going to be okay, baby. We’ll get through this, I won’t let them find out. Whatever rumor is created tonight won’t leave these fences.” 

Karl let out a weak sob. Fuck, he was going to end up crying too, wasn’t he? Stephen closed his eyes and sighed. He just wanted them to have one good day, one day without the reminder of the inevitable. 

They were from completely different worlds, this weren’t even supposed to meet in the first place. 

And yet, there they were, crying silently in the middle of a cornfield as lights exploded in the sky. At least in his arms, Karl didn’t flinch at the sound. Stephen hoped it was because he felt safe. 

“Let’s not freak out until we know for sure what the sound was.” Stephen tried to say, comfortingly.  

“That’s easy for you to say.” 

He had a point. At least Karl sounded a lot less distressed and a lot more pissed off than anything else. Good, better for him to be pissed off at Stephen than hating himself. 

They emerged from the field, a bit farther than the crowd. It seemed that no one had noticed them come back, save for a fellow neighbor and his mom’s friend who had not seen Stephen when she arrived. They exchanged hellos, he managed to speak calmly and thank her for coming. Karl was right beside him, arms crossed at his chest and looking down as if it couldn’t be more obvious that he didn’t want to be here. 

So far, it seemed that no one really cared whether or not they had been missing for a couple of hours. To be fair, all of the other teenagers were inside watching TV, hanging out with Donna or in their own group chatting at the tables. Stephen wasn’t close with any of them, and Wong hadn’t come to the party since he “didn’t want to support colonial bullshit”. He’s also on a diet and doesn’t trust himself around his mother’s sweets. 

Karl rested a hand on his shoulder, though he was looking up at the fireworks in awe. He’s definitely seen them before, but they were a sight to behold. Stephen used to be scared of them, back when he was a kid. He wondered if Karl was too.  

“Can we go inside? I think I’d like to go to bed.” Karl breathed out, he looked exhausted. 

“You sure you don’t want to stay up ‘til midnight? Want to eat something first?” 

Karl shook his head. Stephen agreed and the two of them made their way inside, though not before telling his mom that Karl wasn’t feeling well from swimming in the lake all day and that they were going to chill out inside. She looked worried, which was expected, but nothing out of the ordinary. 

They were seemingly oblivious and the two of them safe. His dad waved at him from the grill, telling Karl that he hoped he felt better in the morning. 

As he expected, Donna was watching television with a few friends in the living room, discussing some story arc about a show that he didn’t know about. There were a couple of other kids playing board games in the dining table. None of them really paid attention to him, though they did stare at Karl.  

One of Donna friends waved at them to come over. Karl didn’t seem like he wanted to but, ever the gentleman, he waved back with a fake, kind smile. 

“Oh, you’re the German kid that’s staying with Donna right?” 

“Yes. My name is Carol.” He answered with a practiced tone. “I wish I could stay, but I’m not feeling well right now.” 

The girl wasn’t taking no for an answer and kept chatting along with Karl, telling him about how she’s always wanted to go to Europe, and how her family is of German descent. Stephen chuckled from beside the sofa, and eventually Karl gave up and sat next to her and Donna’s friends to watch their cringy Korean soap opera.  

Knowing the guy, he was probably going to get really invested in it. He was also surprisingly popular with all of Donna’s friends, who were staring him like he was famous or something. He would be jealous if it wasn’t so hilarious seeing his boyfriend get stared at by a bunch of fourteen year olds. 

Donna kept looking at him for some reason, and eventually excused herself from the group to walk over to him while her friends kept asking Karl questions about Europe and his accent. Stephen leaned against the wall, a couple of feet away from the group, while Donna stood in front of him, voice uncharacteristically low.

“Nick is around here, you know.” She said, finally letting go of the attitude she had earlier. She looked worried about him.

“I know, I’ve been avoiding him all day.”  

Stephen really didn’t want to talk about him, but Donna continued. “Does Karl know what happened?” 

He huffed out a laugh. “What? That I was a huge asshole in my senior year to him? That he got so fed up with me that I got surprised when he kicked the shit out of me? He doesn’t need to know about that part of my life.” 

Donna toyed with her hair, it was a habit she had when she got anxious. He sighed, “He doesn’t need to know about the person I used to be. I was an asshole, I still am. He deserves... better than me.” 

He looked to the side and saw that Karl was rapt with whatever he was watching with the other girls, who were probably explaining what was going on to him. He looked tired but less guarded than before. 

“You _really_ do like him.” It wasn’t a question, or a condescending point this time. Donna knew him better than Wong, better than anyone. “I thought you were just... joking and stuff.”  

“I don’t want him to find out about how I treated Nick, please don’t tell him. Especially not after today.”  

“What happened?” 

Stephen explained everything, obviously leaving out the parts where they were crying or having sex. He told her about how they heard footsteps, how Karl had been on the verge of a panic attack. The more he explained it, the more freaked out he was, and he had his suspicions on who had seen him, if there was really anyone there at all. 

“No wonder he looked so... down. I mean, he always looks like that but now he was even more down than usual.”  

Stephen ruffled her hair and gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s going to be fine. Maybe we just imagined it, maybe it was just a fox or something.” 

“If you say so.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, which earned him a soft punch to his chest and an exaggerated grimace in return. Without Karl noticing -- he didn’t want to interrupt him now that he seemed so calm -- he went up to his room. 

The door had been left ajar. Weird, he had been sure he’d closed it. He didn’t want any of the guests going into his bedroom. 

Except he could hear music coming from inside. He clenched his fist. If one of those preteen fuckers downstairs had touched his record collection, he was going to lose his mind.

When he opened the door, a familiar figure greeted him inside. He was laying on his bed, playing with one of his old action figures. When he looked back, he seemed genuinely shocked, but didn’t move from the bed. 

“Get out of my room, Nick.” 

“Chill. I just wanted to see what it was still like, it hasn’t changed a bit since you left.” Nick placed the action figure where it belonged, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. Stephen didn’t believe him for a second, the man almost broke his nose. 

“Get out of my fucking house.” Stephen warned, Nick didn’t move.  

“I just want to talk, put the past behind us.” He walked closer to him. “You didn’t answer my texts, I didn’t see you all day. I had to find _someway_ to get your attention.” 

“You’re not getting it.” 

“Look, Strange. You’re leaving soon back to New York. You know I’m going to Columbia too, might as well make amends.” 

Stephen huffed and grew closer to Nick, using his height as an advantage to look down on him. He didn’t want to fight, he hated hurting people physically, but if it had to end that way, so be it. “It’s a big university, big city -- We’re done. We treated each other like shit and I don’t have any reason to work shit out with you. I get it, you're obsessed with me, but I don’t care.”  

He’d expected Nick to throw a punch at him. Or just leave in a fit, yelling strews of bullshit as he went down the stairs.  

Instead, he took out his phone and showed him the screen. Stephen felt his heart sink to the floor. 

It was a blurry, dark picture, but anyone could clearly make out the two figures kissing by the lake, the pale and dark skin contrasted with the soft light. It was obvious who it was, it was solid proof.  

Any sort defiance and bravery Stephen felt just moments ago was replaced by fear. His hand moved to take Nick’s phone away from him, but Nick flinched away before he could grab it. 

“What are you going to do with that?” 

“I’m going to show it to everyone.” 

“Are you insane?!” He grabbed Nick by the neck of his shirt, staring down at the shorter man. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m getting payback. You’re a fucking bully and you treat everyone like shit. Your German boyfriend will thank me after this.” 

Stephen shook his head. “Please, don’t do this. You don’t understand. You can’t --” 

“I can and I will.”

Stephen never liked resorting to violence. Any sort of muscle he had was for show, he never actually expected to use it, he wasn’t really that strong to begin with. 

He thought about hitting him in the face, or kicking him in the nuts. Every possible option reeling through his mind in an instant. 

Obviously, nothing went as planned. 

He hit Nick in the side of his head, it was more of a slap, which earned him a punch to his stomach. He groaned, doubling over in pain but still holding himself up enough to push Nick to the ground. Stephen grabbed Nick’s phone, desperately trying to get it from the man’s grip, but it was fruitless. He was pushed away almost immediately, his back colliding with his rack of albums, unable to do nothing but watch a couple of them them fall to the floor. 

He tried to move them away, but Nick didn’t cared if he stepped on them, if they shattered beneath his feet, and made his way to kick Stephen again. And again, until his stomach felt sore and he was just hoping desperately that he managed to cover the man’s blows with his arms, that it wouldn’t lead to a broken bone. Part of him wanted to beg Nick to stop, he was sure he was going to end up yelling out and crying for mercy.  

He hadn’t realized until now how weak he was. 

Nick stopped to lean down and grab at his hair, pulling him up again. Stephen couldn’t take it anymore, and it was all his fault for opening his big fucking mouth. 

“ _Karl!”_ He yelled out, trying to elbow Nick in the stomach but failed once more; he ended up slamming his elbow to the wall and wailing in pain. “ ** _Karl_**!”  

He was breathing so hard, the pain in his arm so blinding, that he didn’t hear the footsteps as they went up the stairs. That he didn’t notice the fact that Karl had slammed open the door, with Donna and her group of friends watching in shock behind him. 

It took him a moment to notice that Karl already had Nick pressed to the wall, landing a calculated blow after another. One to his face, one to his stomach -- all in places that he knew it would _hurt._ As if this wasn’t Karl’s first time doing this, as if it wasn’t the first time he slammed his foot down on another man’s leg, hearing a crack that was muffled by a scream.  

Stephen looked to his side and saw the young girls panicking and going down for help. Donna, on the other hand, was staring in horror, frozen in fear.

Karl was going to end up killing him if he continued.  

“Karl! Karl, stop!” Stephen shrieked, using all of his strength to stand up and hold him back.  

Nick was crying, still holding his phone in his hands. “You broke my leg! You broke my fucking leg!”  

Karl took his phone from his hands without much of a fight. He saw him stare at the screen with wide eyes, probably realizing that the picture was of them. Hopefully, Karl had the right mind to delete it before throwing it back in Nick’s direction. He was so sure that the man would break the phone under the heel of his boot.  

He had a black eye, Karl gave him one to match his own. Stephen had no idea what else Karl did to him, he had been too busy with his bleeding nose and bruised chest. He can’t look at Nick right now, and buried his face into the back of Karl’s neck, who was breathing heavily and trying to calm himself down. 

His hands were shaking against Karl’s chest. Christ, what were they going to do? 

It didn’t take long for a group of adults to barge into the room, his mother and father right in the front, staring at the scene in front of them in horror. 

He heard his dad yell at the three of them, his mom was checking his wounds, holding his face looking as if she was about to cry at the sight. He didn’t actually understand what they were saying, it all felt like a blur. Nick was yelling too, a dozen of adults and kids and nosy guests huddled together in his room, shattering the records strewn on the floor. Everything was so _loud_. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted them all to leave.  

Stephen looked to his side, trying to ignore his mother’s overwrought gaze, whatever she was saying must have been important, but the sight of some of his prized possessions being broken in the floor was too much to bare.  

Instead, he caught sight of Karl. He was sitting on the edge of his bed next to him, completely stoic at the scene and at the sound. He was used to this sort of treatment, and was stronger than him -- at least he could go through his without crying. 

He realized that this wasn’t the first time he’d seen Karl with bloody knuckles. Both times had been thanks to him. 

Stephen rested his head on his mother’s shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that Nick was yelling at the two of them, yelling accusatory claims to anyone who would hear him. Terrible things that he hadn’t expected anyone to say to them, even from Nick.  

Right, he’d forgotten he was in the country, not in New York. People had more problems with boys kissing boys here, and suddenly he wasn’t surprised by the dirty looks some of the guests gave him, as if it had been his fault that Nick had gotten his leg broken. 

Well, it kind of was. 

Once everyone left in a haste, Nick was carried away by his parents, Stephen locked himself in his room. He was sure his parents wanted to talk to him, he heard some harsh, loud knocks on his door for a few minutes before they gave up. He supposed Karl did the same.  

At the break of dawn, he heard another knock on his door. This time, they were softer. The pattern that was only ever used by one person. 

He opened the door for Karl, first making sure that his hair covered his black eye. Though, he hadn’t washed his face. Karl looked impeccable, as if he hadn’t gotten into a fight just hours ago.

“Can I stay with you for the rest of the night? Or morning, actually.” Karl asked, threading his fingers together nervously. 

Stephen paused, then answered, his voice quiet and groggy.  

“I want to be alone.”

He thought Karl would protest. He thought the guy would be angry at him. Instead, Karl looked down and nodded. “I understand.” 

He closed the door for him, presumably walking back to his bedroom.

Stephen doubted he would fall asleep again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl helps Stephen mend his bruises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, sorry for the delay. posting will be scattered from here on out. i am 100% sure i won't be able to post a chapter next week, but hopefully the next i can. i'm currently a quarter of the way through chapter 13 and drowning in college work, lol. i'm sure you can all understand.
> 
> anyway, this chapter is relatively short but the next ones that remain will be much longer. we're nearing the end folks!!! 
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated.

The next morning went too fast, like a blur.

They all woke up at noon, far too tired from the night before to worry about the fact that they were having breakfast by one. Breakfast was silent, even Donna had joined in. His mother had told Stephen to eat with an ice-pack against his eye and a large warming bandage on the bruise on his rib. Karl was sitting in front on Stephen, making eye contact with no one despite the fact that all eyes were on him.

Nick’s parents came by later in order to discuss what had happened. Stephen didn’t want to be part of it, but he overheard the entire conversation from the sofa, pretending that he was listening to music in his headphones. They sounded more apologetic about his son than anything else, apparently Nick has told anyone who would listen to him about his and Karl’s secret relationship. He doesn’t know or care how Nick’s parents feel about it, but they looked uncomfortable with the entire situation. Karl gave them a large sum of money, definitely more than a thousand dollars, to pay for Nick’s medical expenses. Thought, in reality, it was probably to keep them quiet.

Immediately after they left, the two of them were called to the dining room table to talk. His mother made coffee for all four of them -- Donna was sent to her room. There wasn’t much talking at first, the only thing he could hear was the clock ticking above them and the occasional  _ clink _ of a spoon being stirred inside a cup.

Seeing as neither of them were going to speak up, his mother did instead. “Is what Nick said true? Are you two... together?”

Straight to the point, then. He was sure that Nick said it in a much more colorful way. Karl took a sip of his coffee, his face as neutral as ever. Right, Stephen was better at lying, anyway.

“You know how he is, mom. After the two of us fought he just kept making up rumors about me.” He answered, ice pack still held against his eye.

His mother pursed her lips. “He said he had... pictures of the two of you. In the lake.”

“We were just swimming! We got tired of the party and went to hang out by ourselves for a while.” 

Neither of them seemed convinced. Anxiety started to build inside him, along with the pain on the side of his body. He had to find a way to hide this, for Karl. He couldn’t let his family find out and hurt him again, especially not because of him. He didn’t want Karl to regret their time together, and end up with the same bruises he had -- except he would be alone. And unsafe.

He was going to speak up again, make up a lie about how Karl had a crush on Donna. That he wasn’t kissing Karl, he had been doing CPR for him. Stephen had over a dozen more lies made up in his head already, but Karl spoke before him. He sounded calm, regal almost. But his face looked at no one, he was still staring at his coffee. 

“Nick is right.” He paused. “We are in a relationship. I apologize for lying to both of you.”

Stephen stared at Karl with wide eyes. “Why did you tell them?”

The European’s stoic face crumbled down, and he had to hide his face in his hands, desperate not to show any weakness. Just like the times he covered his mouth when he laughed. “Because it was eating me up on the inside. I can’t hide this, not when... this might be the only time I can admit it aloud. Not when you have all been so kind to me.”

He was probably crying, and using all of his strength not to, Stephen could hear him sniff next to him. His mom was looking at the two of them, worried more than anything else. His dad had his hands crossed against his chest -- Stephen wasn’t sure what the hell  _ he _ was thinking. 

He clenched his jaw and looked down as well, like a child being scolded, he didn’t know what to say.

“How long has this been going on for?”

Karl didn’t leave his eyes from the table, sounding a bit more composed. “Two weeks after I arrived.”

His mom cleared her throat. She definitely had no idea how to handle this topic.  “Stephen, I thought this was a phase.”

“Mom, you know I like guys too. Remember the time I almost got suspended?” He almost uttered Wong’s name, but it wasn’t until then that he realized that they didn’t know about that either.

“I thought that was just... an experiment. A phase.”

Stephen sighed. “Sorry, it wasn’t.”

His dad spoke up this time. “Is it serious? Do the two of you really... like each other?”

Both of them nodded at what felt like the same time. He felt Karl’s hand reach under the table to hold his own, softly. As if they would break.

“I... I love him.” Stephen admitted. The grip on his hand felt tighter. 

“Stevie, the two of you have only been together for about a month. You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“What about Christine? Weren’t the two of you...”

He felt Karl glance at him. Stephen gritted his teeth. “Chris and I were never even a  _ thing _ . She probably thought we were, but we broke it off before I came back.”

Karl didn’t know about Christine in detail, he’ll have to explain it all later. He continued. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

Stephen felt Karl’s hand tremble against his own. Shit.

His dad raised his eyebrows, arms unfolded. “You have less than a month together, have you talked about how things will be after you’re an ocean apart?”

Karl shook his head. “We... prefer not to talk about it.”

“Then you aren’t taking things very seriously.”

Stephen’s fist met with the table. “You don’t anything about our situation, dad.”

His mother gave the two of them a stern look until they backed off, she didn’t want any negative tension in this table. “Eugene, enough! Stephen, are you two... sure about this?”

He nodded again, leaning back against his chair to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, baby. The two of us don’t really know how to handle this subject. I never expected this to happen.”

His dad scoffed -- it felt like a punch to his chest. “Come on, Bev, don’t be act surprised. With the earrings and the  _ make up _ the boy wears sometimes. And the shirts, Christ. Of course he likes boys.”

Stephen closed his eyes. He was so tired. It was at moments like these that he remembered why he chose to study so far away from home.

His mom glared at him again. “Eugene...”

Karl was still silently staring at the table. He no longer looked sad, but defeated. Stephen hated the sight.

Finally, his mother looked like she wanted the conversation to end. She took a deep breath before speaking. “Karl. Does your family know about this?”

He shook his head. 

She paused before speaking again. “Should we tell them about this?”

Karl closed his eyes, his eyelashes wet with new formed tears. “No. Please. Please don’t tell them about this.”

She leaned back in her chair and studied the two of them for a moment. His father wasn’t looking at them, instead he was pretending to stare at the wall next to him. 

“Okay, then we won’t. I’m not going to ask about your life back home but... you’re part of the family, Karl. We won’t hurt you or say anything. It’s just new to us, that’s all.”

Karl spoke up again, his voice sounded small. “Thank you.”

“Stevie, you know we love you and we’re so proud of you. We’ve always wanted nothing than for you to be happy. We’ll... get used to your lifestyle in time, alright? We love you, we really do.”

Shit, he was going to start crying too. Maybe not at his mother’s words, but because his dad still refused to say anything. Refused to look at either at them. It made him feel like an idiot, even when it shouldn’t. Even when he didn’t expect anything else.

“Thanks.” He said, simply. If they would give him the bare minimum, he would give it to them in return. “Can I go to my room? My head hurts.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, his head really did hurt. As well as his ribs. They weren’t broken, thankfully, but the bruise will take a while to heal. And Karl looked as it he was going to barf if he continued speaking. It was way too much for both of them.

His mother nodded and started to pick up their coffee mugs, probably anxious to distract herself or find something to do with her hands. “Um -- sure, sweetie. We can keep talking later. Or tomorrow, whatever you like.”

His dad stood up in a matter of seconds, picking up a cigarette and his lighter as he went out the door. 

Stephen couldn’t find a reason to stay any longer. Still holding Karl’s hand, they made their way back to his room.

He’d forgotten he still had not cleaned up the records thrown across the floor. Stephen whimpered at the sight and fell to his knees, moving them out of the way and checking each one, in case they were still intact.

Without saying a word, Karl sat beside him and did the same, naming off each record and album to the ones that were shattered, and the ones that could still work.

In the end, about two dozen of his records were completely unusable. Some of them being his New Order record, a Bronski Beat disk, and a Joy Division record. 

“It feels like he killed my kids.” Stephen pouted. “I’m gonna have to buy them again.”

Karl let out a small smile. “I will buy them for you, I promise.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. You deserve it.”

Stephen crawled closer to him; Karl’s smile was still sad, but it grew against his lips as he kissed him. “No I don’t.”

“You do.” Karl took his hand, shoulders slumped. “I will mail them to your dorm, along with a brand new record player, mark my words.”

Stephen couldn’t help but laugh and eventually agree to the arrangement. 

The walls in his house were thin. Both of them could clearly hear the discussion his parents were having in the kitchen. His mother argued because she didn’t want his father to smoke in the kitchen, while he continued to accuse her of raising him, as if all of this was her fault.

His smile left his face as fast as it had appeared. Karl stood up to close and lock the door, at the very least muffling the sound.

“Put something on, for me.” 

As Stephen got up to chose an album from his collection, Karl took off his shoes and laid on his bed, eyes closed and curled up, as if he was cold. Stephen could still hear his parents arguing beneath them -- he cranked up the volume and played the first album he could find. It was _Rush’s_ _Permanent Waves._ Yeah, that was loud enough.

It wasn’t exactly the most fitting music, definitely not the calmer music that Karl probably wanted. But it was was loud, and he couldn’t hear any sound except the music and their own voices. Stephen didn’t want to think about anything else.

The European sat up and shuffled in his bed, looking like he wanted to say something, something important. Instead what blurted out was a lot more endearing. 

“That song played when we first spoke in the car. You fell asleep after the first and then this one played. It was so loud it made me jump.” 

Karl wasn’t that good at turning down the tension in the room, but he was trying, and that alone made him less tense, just somewhat at ease. He smiled, “You like it?”

“I like to think it may be  _ our song _ .” Karl looked at his record collection, trying to avoid his gaze. 

Stephen chuckled, “I was thinking a certain Mister Ziggy Stardust would be the one to sing that song. I can’t imagine playing Rush during out wedding or anything.”

The joke didn’t land at all. He heard Karl clear his throat behind him, voice coming through gritted teeth. “Don’t joke about that.”

Stephen toyed with the record player instead, lowering and upping the volume along with the song. It went on like that for a while, until he felt two hands hold his waist, fingers digging inside his pockets. 

A warm breath hit the back of his neck, then a soft kiss. “Come to bed.”

Stephen wanted to make another joke, probably another tasteless one, but he leaned back against Karl’s chest. He allowed himself to be pulled back to the mattress until he was sitting in the middle of his bed, his head resting against Karl’s stomach, who was straddling him and stroking his hair. For someone who had grown up with almost no experiences with gentleness, Karl was really good at it. Stephen hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed having his hair stroked and played with until now. 

His hands gripped at Karl’s shirt, not looking up at him. “This is going to be so fucking awkward now.” He sighed, dreading the fact that eventually they’ll have to leave this room and he’ll have to face his parents again. That he couldn’t just stay here until summer ended, in Karl’s arms.

Karl pushed away his hair from his face, revealing his black eye. He liked seeing both of them, sometimes complained that he should get a haircut so he could look more handsome. For once, Stephen considered it. “We should talk about this. About what you are feeling.”

He scoffed. “I don’t want to talk think about it.”

“Letting things out helps.”

Stephen shrugged. “You’re one to talk.”

“I like setting good examples I never follow.” Despite the lightheartedness, Karl’s voice sounded sad. He wondered if he regretted admitting all of this. 

Stephen buried his face against Karl’s shirt again, voice shaking. “I just... didn’t think dad would react like that. He looked so disappointed in me. He looked grossed out, I’ve never seen him look at me like that.”

His boyfriend fell silent, still stroking his hair. Stephen sighed. “He’s said some shitty stuff before, I didn’t expect him to have a lot of tact or be super knowledgeable of everything but... y’know, I didn’t know he would be angry that his son was a fucking queer.”

“You learn to live with it.” Karl sounded defeated now. Then again, what else could he say? “Your mother seemed supportive enough, perhaps she can talk some sense into him.”

“I guess, I don’t know.” Stephen shook his head. “He’s out there smoking a cigar and probably dreading the fact that he raised me wrong, or something. I’m so glad I got out of this hellhole.”

“Trust me, this is anything but a hell hole.” Karl stroked his hair again. “I am not... close to my parents, I am used to this disappointment, but it will be alright. You are so smart and good, and you will make them proud by becoming an amazing doctor.”

Tears threatened to fall to his cheeks, and they were. Stephen sniffed and looked down so Karl wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to seem weak, but he was breathing heavily, sobbing -- there was no mistaking the fact that this whole ordeal had drained all semblance of energy from him, along with the pain in his ribs and his eye. “Karl...”

“ _ Ești foarte curajos.”  _ He felt a kiss against the top of his head.

Stephen whimpered, “I don’t know what that means...”

“It means that you are very brave.” With that, Karl held him by the shoulders and pushed down, gently, so his back was pressed to the mattress and Karl was looming over him. But it also meant that Stephen could no longer cover his face -- he looked to the side, tears still welling in his eyes. 

He mumbled, “You were the one who admitted it first.”

“And you were the one who said you loved me in front of your father. That seems very brave to me.” 

With that Karl lowered his head to press a kiss to his forehead then settled next to him, curling up together, looking down sheepishly. Still sad despite their closeness and tenderness; Stephen didn’t blame him.

“Do you... think your father will tell on us?” 

Stephen closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t want to talk about him.”

“N-No, it’s fine. To be honest, he’s just angry and disappointed in me, he doesn’t give a shit if you’re gay.” He shrugged. “Are you gay, or do you like girls too?”

Karl shook head, looking slightly amused. “No, I have always been interested in only men. I was angry about it at first, at myself, and I thought that if I was manlier it would grow away.”

That made him laugh. “What did you do? Work out and beat people up?”

“...Yes, actually.” Karl seemed embarrassed now. “I took martial arts for many years and became pretty good at it. I managed to defend myself from idiots in school and impress my mother. But I... took it too far one day. I lost my temper again last night.”

He’d been meaning to talk to Karl about that. Stephen groaned, feeling a sudden ache in his body from his bruises. The expression on Karl’s face turned from embarrassed to furious at the sight of him in pain. “I should have lost it even more.”

“Karl, you were gonna kill Nick if you continued. He’s gonna need teeth work and has a broken arm and leg. If it wasn’t for the cash you gave his parents, we would have been sued.” Stephen took Karl’s hand in his own.

“He was going to hurt you even  _ more _ , I did what I must.” Karl sighed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you like this ever again.”

“How are you going to do that from Europe?” 

Karl thought for a moment. “I will get you some bodyguards.”

Obviously, Karl was joking, but he wouldn’t put it past him. Stephen shook his head as he laughed softly and tried not to think about  _ that _ side of Karl, the one he saw last night. Karl would have killed Nick, they both knew it even if they probably weren’t going to talk about the issue at hand.

He felt nervous fingertips play with the hem of his shirt. “May I... see what he did to you?”

“My bruises? Why?”

Karl bit his lips, probably searching for an answer. Thankfully, Stephen appreciated any excuse to take off his clothes. Very carefully, he took off his shirt, trying very hard not to make his body hurt any more than it already was. Shirt on the ground, he started to push off pants, but Karl held his arm tight and in place to stop him.

He said nothing and moved closer to him, darker hands tracing over the black and blue bruises left over pale skin. They were mostly on his rib cage, along with a scattered few on his arms. Karl’s watched him with a stoic face, eventually twisting into anger and worry. 

“I should have been in the room with you. I should have protected you...” He muttered, just low enough for Stephen to hear over the music. “I’m sorry.”

“Babe, don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything--”

“Exactly. I did  _ nothing _ to avoid this.” Karl looked even angrier at himself.

“To  _ me _ , you didn’t do this to me, you don't have to apologize. I love you, y’know that.” He leaned up to kiss his boyfriend tenderly, until he calmed down and allowed him to rest his head in his chest. He felt Karl’s hand trace over his bruises again, oh so gently, scared that they would hurt, then rest over his chest. 

“I, uh, got an aloe on my nightstand. Could you hand it over?” Stephen asked and it earned him a slight chuckle from Karl, who knew well-enough that he used it to jerk off most of the time he didn’t have any lotion instead.

“I’ll help you.” Karl poured some over his fingertips and applied it over his bruises. The cold sensation made them hurt far less than before, Stephen stretched out and gave Karl his arms, allowing him to treat those bruises too.

“That’s good, maybe you could be my nurse.”

Karl scoffed. “I will be no one’s nurse. Maybe I will become your rival doctor.”

“Of what? Neuroscience?”

“No, a pseudoscience just to make you mad. I’ll open up my own acupuncture clinic next to your hospital.”

Stephen laughed then grimaced. “Ugh, no thanks.”

“Or I will make my own health bracelets. Oh! I could dedicate my life to colon cleansing.” 

The two of them were straight up giggling now, he was tempted to throw a pillow in Karl’s direction. “Fuck no, I’ll break up with you if you do that.”

Once finished, Stephen stretched again and the two rested together on the mattress, curled up once more.

Karl cleared his throat. “I use that for my own bruises too.”

Stephen took his hand instantly, gripping it tightly. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t seem like hollow pity. Instead, he kissed Karl again and rested his forehead against his.

“I promise that these last few weeks will be great, alright? No matter what happens, this will be a summer you won’t ever forget.”

“It’s already been unforgettable since day one.” Karl stroked his thumb over Stephen’s cheekbone, eyes sad again. “All thanks to you.”

“I wish I could... control time or something. And stop it just for a while. Give us another summer to spend in peace.”

Karl shook his head. “No, the fact that our days are counted makes this more special. We must talk about the future, one of these days. Because I do want a future with you after this.”

Stephen raised his eyebrows, wiping his hair from his face again. He felt at loss for words for a moment, a smile forming in his face. “Same here.”

They decided it was best if they stayed in bed all day in comfortable silence, watching movies on Karl’s computer. Tomorrow, they could spend the rest of their days away from his house, away from his dad and everyone else who didn’t understand. Tomorrow, they could maybe invite Wong and spend some time with their friend, but for now they could cuddle in the mattress, curled together, pretending they didn’t have another care on the world.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl and Stephen have a nice week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaah new chapter! and this one's long, as an apology for the delay and for the fact that the next chapter will also be delayed, so you'll have to wait two weeks until i post that one :( but, im working on other things too! 
> 
> anyway, my word doc for this fic just hit 85k and it's still missing two chapters. shit!!!!!
> 
> no warnings for this chapter, it's pretty chill. enjoy! comments and kudos are appreciated!

They ended up inviting Wong after all.

The pair left their house in the early hours of the morning, when Stephen knew that his dad would be in his office and his mother would be in the kitchen table, writing something down. She sent them off with a quiet goodbye, a nod of her head, knowing that Stephen probably didn’t want to talk to either of them. She set two sandwiches for both of them on the table and lemonade, both homemade and delicious, perhaps as a small apology.

Thanks to the aloe and a couple of pills, Stephen didn’t seem to be in as much pain as yesterday. Just enough to go about his day without too much complications. Still, when they got to the car, Karl suggested he should drive. Stephen didn’t protest and continued to eat in back seat, holding Oats with his free hand and trying to finish his sandwich quickly without giving any to the small goat.

Karl had demanded that she came with them, claiming that it had been far too long since he had some time with his ‘daughter’. Stephen said it was  _ their _ daughter, seeing at he had helped with the birthing process. Oats simply tried to chomp away at his shirt collar in the process.

And now they were driving into town, windows down and wind blowing in their face, with a baby goat in the backseat and the  _ Dirty Dancing _ soundtrack on the radio, as per Stephen’s choice.

It was good driving music, actually. And it paid off whenever he looked through his rear-view mirror and saw Stephen was dramatically lip-syncing at each song.

They texted Wong telling him that they would pick him up in the early morning, expecting him to be ready by then. Instead, it took him about ten minutes to answer the door, and he looked groggy, still in his pajamas. Somehow he managed to come back down stairs just five minutes later, long hair perfectly kept in a bun and outfit still as  _ hipster  _ as possible. Karl had no idea how he did it, but thought it was funny considering the fact that Stephen usually took forever to look presentable -- that is, the few times that he actually tried to.

Wong sat in the front seat beside him, for once allowing Stephen to play his music. The two were calmly discussing what they did during the fourth of July, deliberately leaving out any details about Nick. He wondered if Wong knew what happened, if Stephen had told him, but judging by the fact that Stephen still had remnants of his black eye and a large bruise on one of his elbows, Wong probably already knew that something had happened. He didn’t want to talk about it in front of Stephen in hopes of ruining their day sometimes. He drove in silence while Stephen excitedly talked about a movie and Wong argued that the book was superior. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard this conversation.

After stocking up on scattered snacks and drinks, they ended up on top of the same hill they always went to. Except this time it was daytime, and there was no marijuana or terribly unhealthy snacks to be found. Just the three of them, his pet, and a frisbee that Wong had held onto tightly during the entire time.

Karl didn’t really know what that last part was about.

Stephen was on snack duty. He placed Oats by his side, who started to happily chomp away at the green grass that surrounded her, as compared to the dirtier grass she usually snack on inside her pen. Hopefully she wouldn’t try to eat  _ all _ of the snacks they brought, both chips and beer alike. He sat on the picnic blanket, one hand holding the small goat and another holding his beer bottle -- he looked adorable, it would be a lot more endearing if he forgot about the fact that Stephen had to sit this way because of his injury.

Karl was about to sit beside his boyfriend, perhaps partake in some of the beer himself, even if most of the beer Americans enjoyed tasted utterly disgusting. He walked to his boyfriend but was stopped by a hand in his shoulder holding him back. Wong was beside him, staring at him intently like he did to everyone else, except his grip was a bit too tight. Karl smiled to hide his wincing, “What’s wrong?”

“Come with me, I want to talk for a second.” Wong replied flatly, already walking away without waiting for him.

He gave a quick wave to Stephen, who seemed sad that they were leaving him alone for a while. As he walked beside Wong, he heard music start to play behind them.

They walked until they were in the other side of the hill, the one that had more trees and shade. Karl closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the breeze blowing against his skin, his now slightly longer hair moving along with it. It was just an inch or two, but he’s had a short military cut for so long, it felt nice. Liberating.

Until he felt a hand come to his neck, pushing him against the trunk of a tree. Karl gasped for air, trying to let it out as slowly as possible -- this has been done to him before, but never by a friend.

“ _ Wong...”  _ He wheezed. “ _ Why--” _

The long haired man looked at him in fury, seeming angrier than he’s ever seen him before. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“W-What are you--” He gasped for air, trying to kick the man away but failing, “--talking about?”

“Stephen is covered with bruises everywhere. I heard that someone beat him up two days ago. What. Did. You. Do?”

Finally, Karl managed to kick Wong away from him, a hard blow to his chest that forced him to step back. Karl fell to the ground, clutching at his neck and coughing. “It was Nick!” He barked out, forcing himself to speak before Wong managed to get back up again.

“What? Nick?!” Completely changing his personae, Wong helped him stand up again. 

“Yes, it was Nick! Do you really think I would hurt Stephen like that?!” Karl grabbed Wong’s shirt collar, glaring at him with gritted teeth. “Nick caught him alone and hurt him, badly.”

“I heard that you went crazy and started hurting someone. That you almost killed someone.” 

He shook his head, “That is true, but it wasn’t to Stephen. Nick caught us together and... hurt him, I don’t know why. I caught them in Stephen’s room kicking him over and over.” He closed his eyes. “I could have prevented it if I was there...”

Wong placed a hand on his neck, making his flinch, but just giving him a friendly pat. He definitely wasn’t great at comforting people but Karl accepted it. He would have had the same reaction if he thought Wong hurt Stephen, or worse. 

“I didn’t know Nick still held his grudge that strongly. Stephen didn’t tell me they had spoken to each other.” 

Wong’s hand felt to his side, looking defeated and now silent. Karl pursed his lips. “What... What happened between them? I ask Stephen but everything he says is so vague, like he’s lying.”

He heard Wong scoff. “Of course he is... You want the truth?”

After a moment of thought, Karl nodded. 

Wong crossed his arms against his chest. He wondered if he was guilty that he was admitting this, without Stephen’s explicit permission, but Karl was tired of the lies and the things Stephen hid that could have prevented everything that happened. “Stephen was an  _ asshole _ to Nick, had been for years. It was bullying, he would call him names and make fun of everything Nick did. Stephen went to far as to have sex with his girlfriend at one point. He was just a dick. I would tell him to stop, we didn’t talk for a while because of it, but he... continued.”

“Eventually, right before senior year ended, Nick snapped and beat the shit out of him. He got suspended and had to repeat a class or two. That’s why Nick is still here while Stephen’s off in New York, even if they’re supposed to go to the same school. If I’m going to be honest, both of them deserved what happened.”

Karl frowned. “Stephen couldn’t have been that bad to have deserved _this_.”

“You didn’t know him back then.” Wong stepped closer. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, he’s the Stephen I knew  _ now _ , but before what Nick did he was... something else entirely.”

“Did you stop being friends with him because of it?” Karl wasn’t entirely sure of what to say or ask. Stephen and Wong were the first friends he’d ever had, this was exactly the sort of drama he wasn’t used to. No book or film could actually let him know what it felt like to have friends.

Wong shrugged, face unreadable. “I didn’t have anyone else. He would act like himself when we were alone but would ignore me at school. I suppose it was just to impress everyone else.”

Wong was a quiet person, he didn’t really show a lot of emotions. Not by choice, Karl believed he was just born that way. His voice sounded a bit sad, though.

Karl wondered what might have happened if he had come to this state just a year earlier, or two. Stephen and him would have hated each other, Karl had no patience for people who were rude just for the sake of doing so, because they  _ could _ . He stroked his throat again and looked at the ground. “I am happy I met him this year.”

Wong gave him a look that was akin to a smile, maybe a smirk. “He’s still a bit of a dick, but that’s just an integral part of his personality.”

Karl couldn’t disagree with that.

As they walked back, Wong wrapped his arm around Karl’s shoulder to whisper near his ear. “Don’t tell Stephen I told you that.”

“Why not?”

“You  _ know _ how much he tries to impress you, even if he’s not that great at it.” Wong sighed. “He’s more fragile than he thinks. If he knew that you knew about his past, however recent he will be, he’ll think you hate him or won’t want to date him anymore.”

Sometimes, it felt that Wong knew more about Stephen than anyone else, including Donna. Karl couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, he wanted to know everything about Stephen, he had a million questions and so little time, unlike Wong who was years and years ahead of him.

Just before passing the top of the hill, back to where Stephen was, Karl stopped Wong in his tracks and faced him, face stern. 

Wong huffed, “Right, I’m... really sorry about attacking you. It was extremely uncalled for.”

_ Had he really forgotten to apologize? _   “Never mind that,” Karl shook his head, either hand on Wong’s shoulders. “I want... to make this week special for Stephen. The last week was so terrifying for the two of us, and he is still shaken from what everything that happened.”

“You got any ideas in mind?”

“No... I’m afraid I’m not very good at coming up with fun ideas. I was hoping you could help me.”

As they continued to walk, Stephen waving at them from afar, Wong whispered scattered options for the two of them. Karl hastily typed everything down on his phone to study and organize later. He wanted their last weeks to be perfect, they  _ needed _ to be perfect.

Stephen was laying on the blanket, trying to hide the fact that he’d been feeding Oats some chips. Karl couldn’t help but frown, she could choke on that.

He picked her up in his arms then then leaned down to give Stephen a kiss to his temple, followed by a light smack on his head. “I saw that.”

“Sorry, sorry. She just really likes ‘em.” Stephen sat up with a smile, his right eye still slightly more closed than the other because of his recovering black eye. He eyed the two of them, “What took you guys so long? Were you two  _ doing stuff  _ without me?”

Wong rolled his eyes. “No, we were just discussing some things.”

Stephen grew visibly more worried, but tried to shrug it off with a laugh. “Like what?”

Karl sat beside him. “I was asking Wong what we should do this week. I have lot of ideas now, and they’re all surprises.”

With that, Stephen’s eye visibly lit up, clearly trying to come up with plausible answers. Karl denied every single one, not wanting to give anything away. Not to mention that he didn’t  _ actually  _ have any good ideas so far, but Stephen didn’t need to know that.

He turned to Wong. “By the way, why did you bring a that... plastic disk? Ah, I forget what it’s called.”

“Frisbee.” Wong answered, deadpan.

Stephen snorted beside him. “He wants to play some ultimate frisbee.”

“What the difference between frisbee and ultimate frisbee?”

“That he can’t play the ultimate one because it requires like ten people in each team.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to be a librarian.”

“I can have hobbies. I mean, Stephen’s gonna be a doctor and still continue his weird 80’s fetish.” Wong threw the disk in his direction, Karl caught it with one hand. “Wanna play?”

Karl smirked and threw it back, Wong caught the disk without even looking at its direction. A worthy challenge, then. It’s been so long since Karl did a sport just for fun and not because of his family's wishes.

“Do you mind?” He asked his boyfriend, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Of course not, I like seeing my boys get sweaty and throw around plastic toys.”

From a couple of feet away, Wong’s voice yelled out. “It’s not a toy!”

He gave Stephen a quick peck on his lips and ran off to battle his friend in a fortuitous battle of love, death and frisbee. At least, that’s how he imagined it. He liked to add a dramatic flair to his games.

Off to the side, goat in his arms, Stephen cheered for him and laughed the entire time -- all sadness and memory of the events of the last two days completely devoid in his voice. 

 

\---

 

This had been the first time he’d had to ask Beverly whether or not they could leave town.

It felt ridiculous, Stephen and him were both adults and needed not permission to drive for a day, but Beverly had been so kind and were worried now more than ever for their safety after what Nick did. Lincoln was also almost a two hour drive from the small town, it was better to be safe that sorry. 

She agreed with a warm smile, saying it would be nice for them to leave town and see some new sights. “Stephen loves the city, I think he was born being a city boy at heart.”

“He does love the attention.” Karl agreed and took a sip of his tea while he waited for Stephen to finish changing and come down.

“You seem more like a country boy to me.” She smiled.

Karl raised an eyebrow. “Like a cowboy, Mrs. Strange?”

“No, no --” Her eyes closed as she laughed, the same crinkle in her nose that Stephen got when he smiled too hard. “--I think you’re more destined for the simple life. Workin’ in a farm, tending to animals and other people. Or just living far away from where most people are, the rural areas, yeah?”

Perhaps not working with animals, or at least not more than one or two, but he can’t help but agree with the fact that he likes the quietness of this town. Usually he can’t go into the countryside of Romania without being openly stared and even glared at. 

A cottage. A small home away in the mountains. Where he could make tea and watch films and find out a true passion he enjoys, something to give his life greater meaning. Or perhaps, a quiet existence, where he didn’t to worry about his lineage or his country, nor anyone’s well-being but his own and Stephen’s.

It’s adorably idyllic.

Before he could answer, Stephen made his way down the stairs with a tired smile. He wasn’t used to getting up this early, but if they wanted to get to the city early enough to head back before it was too late, he forced Stephen to set up an alarm. 

“Hey, you ready to go?” Stephen asked, no longer limping as strongly. His black eye was still noticeable, it will last for another week or two, but he looks good enough for them to do as they please.

“Yes. Goodbye, Mrs. Strange.” He took the car keys and made his way out the door. 

A kind voice rang behind them. “For the last time, just call me Beverly. Have fun, boys. Be sure to come back before midnight.”

From afar, as they walked to Stephen’s car, Mr. Strange tended to the animals by himself. Stephen merely glanced at him and did not give him a second thought, Karl followed suit.

It wasn’t until they started to drive down the highway that Karl noticed Stephen was wearing long sleeves. A simply white shirt, no sort of band logo or symbol decorating it, with plain tight jeans and sneakers. It felt weird not to see him in something dramatic, over the top, something that was true to himself. His face was bare saved for the slight makeup he had taken from Donna to hide the bruise that adorned his eye. 

Karl didn’t like to see Stephen like this, forced to hide who he was in order not to attract attention. Without a word. He drove with one hand and held Stephen’s with the other, his thumb soothing the pale man’s palm.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or not?” Stephen spoke over the loud music. 

It was Pink Floyd this time -- well, again. Every time Stephen would play this album he would go on a long-winded rant about the misconceptions people have about, how most people only listen to it when they're on drugs. Karl didn’t really care, he would simply smile and nod. This time, however, he would have preferred the rant to the man’s silence. At least he broke the ice.

“I’m not telling you, but you are free to guess.” He continued to look on ahead of the rode. There was still about an hour to go.

“A strip club. A hotel.” Stephen joked. “We’re going out to be private and do some freaky stuff.”

“If I wanted to do that, I would have simply asked Wong to let us use his room for a while.” Karl rolled his eyes. “Try again.”

“A movie? A museum? You like those, I know you do.” 

“I do, but I am not telling you anything.” 

Eventually, after several guesses, some of the slightly close and others ridiculously off, Stephen leaned his chair back and closed his eyes. 

“Wherever we go, I’m glad we got to go together, baby.” He said, voice slightly tired. Karl felt a sort of heart rise to his cheeks. He wasn’t going to admit it, but that pet name truly did have some sort of effect on him. Stephen would have a field trip with the word if he knew how much Karl enjoyed it.

A smile formed on his lips. “How romantic. You sound as if we are about to die.”

He wasn’t surprised when Stephen changed the song immediately after he spoke. It was The Smith’s “ _ There is a light that never goes out” _ , it felt appropriate, even as Stephen bellowed out the lyrics off the top of his lungs, not caring if his deep voice voice broke. Now that he thought about it, the lyrics were very gruesome, but Stephen continued to squeeze his hand and look at him as he sung. He really didn’t want to think about any sort of vehicle crashing into them at the moment, even if Morrissey was singing about it in his soft voice.

Lincoln wasn’t too busy at this time of the day, at this time of the week, most of the adults were out working, leaving most of the other teenagers roaming about the streets. Stephen stared out the window with happy eyes, it was clear he missed being in the city. Karl wasn’t personally impressed, but he had a specific destination in mind, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

They arrived at the shop soon after, Stephen reeling with excitement at the realization of where they were going. A smile bright and wide, taking off his seat-belt before they even parked. 

“A record shop?! We’re at Lefty’s? This is awesome! I haven’t been here in years!” Stephen almost ran to the entrance, ignoring the pain he definitely had at his side, and walked in without him. Karl sighed, he’d been hoping that it was the first time Stephen had ever gone to the shop, but he was a native after all.

When he stepped inside the man was already dutifully looking through the catalog of records, probably searching for the ones that broke.

“I only brought, like, thirty bucks.” Stephen sighed. It made him laugh.

“Really, Stephen? These are my treats, a gift for you. Pick as many as you’d like.”

“I thought you wasted all your cash on Nick’s family.” Stephen raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not, I still have plenty of money left over, as well as getaway cash if things went ever went haywire. Please, be my guest.”

His boyfriend leaned closer and smirked. “I like it when you get all sugar daddy for me.”

“I... what?” 

Stephen didn’t answer and simply continued to look through the records, picking a few that caught his eye. Karl took out a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “I made a list of all the records that broke in the... incident, if need be.”

“I already memorized them.”

Of course he did.

Almost an hour passed until Stephen was satisfied with his choices. They couldn't find all of the records that were shattered, but they did find at least six or seven new albums to enjoy. Well, for Stephen to enjoy. They would have left earlier had it not been that Stephen decided to go on a long winded discussion with the shopkeeper, obviously trying to impress the man with his knowledge, about the fad of making new music albums into vinyl, which lost the quality of the sound or... something. Karl stopped listening. 

As Stephen spoke, he roamed down the section with newer music CD’s and ended up buying one for himself.

“Do you have any music that’s very loud and angry?” He asked the man behind the counter, who looked back with an amused smile.

“Sure, any genre in specific?” He asked. Stephen looked beside him eagerly.

Karl narrowed his eyes. “Anything that would make an old man furious, and that’s very American.”

With that, Karl ended up walking out of the record shop with two heavy metal CD’s, an new rap album he was assured he would enjoy, and the new Solange album that he’d heard about. Stephen kept caressing his own albums as if they were his children, looking through the tracks and inspecting the records. It was endearing, really.

“I love seeing you all rebellious.” Stephen quipped. “It really matches your cute button up shirt and frat boy shorts.”

Karl scoffed. “Out of the two of us, you are far more likely to become a frat boy. I can see it now, you already have the pretentious music taste and go to an Ivy league American school. All you need is a haircut.” 

“Oh come on, you too? I thought ma was going to be the only one to complain about my hair.”

“Hm, we both agree you would look better with a shorter cut.” Karl pushed away Stephen’s hair from his eye and smiled. “See? Now I can see all of your beauty.”

Stephen’s cheeks turned pink again. “Your gentleman  _ charms _ don’t work on me.”

“I beg to differ, but alright.” 

They ended up eating at a local café, Karl helped himself to more mediocre coffee and eggs while Stephen ate a mockery of a crepé, overflowing with chocolate and fruits. When he was sure no one was looking, he wiped the excess whipped cream from the corner of his boyfriend’s lips, earning him a blush and a wink from Stephen. It was incredibly cliche, but he didn’t care, Karl had never been allowed the right to enjoy something this romantic.

The sun shined bright, not a cloud in the sky. Stephen rolled up his sleeves as they walked to look at random shops, only moments later remembering that they were still covered in bruises and covered them again. 

After another hour of wandering inside shops, not a single bit of clothes that interested either of them, they returned to Stephen’s car.

Driving aimlessly for now while they decided what to do, Stephen held up his records again and placed them against his chest. “Hey... Karl?”

Still looking at the road, Karl asked what was wrong. Had the day become boring? Had this not been enough? Should he buy Stephen something else?

The American looked down at his hands in thought. “I... uh, thanks. For the records and stuff, it means a lot.”

He furrowed his brows. He did promise he would buy it back. “Of course. I doubt Nick would pay you back for his damages. It was the least I could do.”

“It’s a lot more than that.” Stephen blurted out. They were leaving the city now that they realized there was nothing else to do. They went ahead and made their way back to Stephen’s hometown, maybe they could visit Wong again. “You’re the best boyfriend I ever had.”

Karl almost stopped in the middle of the road at the shock. “Ah, that’s good. It is my first time, after all. That means you’re the best I ever had too.”

Stephen sat in silence for a while, listening to Karl’s new album as he looked out the window. It wasn’t until they were nearing the town that he spoke up again.

“I think I wanna go home, babe.”

It caught Karl off guard, he assumed Stephen would want to stay away from his house as much as possible. “Why?” 

“I’m  _ tired. _ ” 

They had only been out for a couple of hours and barely walked that much, he didn’t understand why Stephen was suddenly exhausted. “Alright, we can go rest.”

“No, baby, I’m  _ tired _ .” Stephen repeated the phrase with a wink and a hand motion that definitely had a double meaning.

Oh, it was a sex thing.

Karl had never driven back home so fast in his life.

 

\---

 

The week went on, days blending into one another, each one as light and pleasant as a summer breeze.

Out of the sudden need to stay outside, Stephen suddenly felt that it was proper how to teach Karl more about living in a farm. Karl wasn’t necessarily interested in the production of corn and its growth, but Stephen promised he would teach him something way more “country”.

“Like a real cowboy,” He had said as they walked to a neighboring farm, not too far off town. All Karl knew about cowboys were the things he had seen in movies, like Eastwood and scattered other western classics. He tried doing the accent, which made Stephen almost fall to the ground from laughter, but other than that, Karl didn’t know what Stephen was going to show him.

“Are you going to teach me how to do a lasso?”

“I... don’t know how to do that, actually.”

As they arrived at the farm, Stephen greeted a man who was leaning against a fence, looking lost in thought. He towered over the two of them, a body as strong as bricks, and skin darker than his own. His voice was deep, and with an accent he couldn’t quite place. This was the first time he’d ever seen the man, Stephen had never mentioned him before. Karl felt a rush of blood rush to his cheeks, he was very handsome. 

“Daniel! What’s up? I haven’t seen you all summer.” They greeted each other with a firm handshake. The man even ruffled Stephen’s hair, his face still stern.

“I told you to call me Mister Drumm.” He huffed but didn’t seem too annoyed. “It’s good to see you, Strange. How is medical school?”

“Straight A’s as always, Mister Drumm.” Stephen boasted. Karl stood in the sidelines, staring wide eyed at the huge man in front of him. 

Drumm gestured at his direction, arms still crossed on his chest. “Who’s this? A friend?”

“Oh, this is Carol. He’s a friend I... met on the internet, he’s German. Staying over at my house for a while and I thought I could show him around the stables.”

At this, Daniel barked out a laugh, bright white teeth shining sharp. He looked very intimidating, Karl gulped and shuffled where he stood. 

A finger was pointed in Stephen’s direction, Daniel shook his head as he spoke. “This boy, he helped take care of my horses for years. Helped give birth to countless calfs. And he did it all for free, you know that? I always paid him, but he’s softer than he looks.”

“Yeah, yeah, Daniel. Listen, I --”

"Oh, he helped me break in so many horses! You should have seen him as a kid, he would feed the foals with little bottles when he was a baby, it was adorable. I bet your mother had a few pictures of that. Doesn’t she, Strange?” 

Stephen gave out a nervous laughter and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the stables. “So, uh, I’m gonna teach Carol here to ride. Can we? Just for a few hours.”

Daniel leaned back against the fence against and shrugged. “As long as you clean them afterwards if they get too dirty. Take Port-au-Prince and Kathmandu, they need some exercise anyway.”

Stephen ran towards the stables immediately, still holding Karl by his arm. He continued to glance back at Daniel, who paid the two no mind anymore. The stables were dirtier than the ones he was accustomed to, but they were nice. The horses seemed healthy and all had beautiful coats. Karl would be able to form more coherent thoughts, if his teenage hormones weren’t still making him think of how big Mister Drumm’s arms were.

“So, I’m teaching you how to ride a horse, just like a real badass cowboy. You ready?”

Karl barely registered the fact that Stephen was talking. “Huh? Oh, I already know how to ride?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously?!”

“Of course, did you really think my family would allow me not to know how to properly ride?” To prove a point, Karl let out the horse from its stable, soothing it as he placed the saddle over its back and the reins. Truth be told, it’s been a few years since he’d properly ridden, but as he watched Stephen struggle a bit with his own horse, he was confident that it wouldn’t be an issue.

Trying to hide his embarrassed at being showed off, Stephen smirked at him. “You’re a good rider, huh?” 

Karl lead Kathmandu out the stables and towards the grounds, not looking back at he spoke. “Of course. How do you think I got these thighs?”

That certainly shut him up. He stopped, waiting for Stephen, and all he heard behind him was the fumbling of a saddle, Stephen struggling to get up on his horse, and a low annoyed whine from the one he could only assume was called Port-au-Prince. It walked beside him -- he could clearly see Stephen was blushing now and trying to hide the fact that he was eyeing his thighs. He chuckled.

“So, Stephen, what do you have to teach me?”

The American frowned. “Nothing, I guess.” 

He was being petty now, pouting his lips. Stephen made his horse gallop away towards the grounds, doing laps in a circle around the large fenced area. Karl simply rolled his eyes and followed.

They spent the next hours or the day at Mister Drumm’s grounds, riding and competing for hours on end, occasionally helping themselves to some snacks that Drumm allowed them to eat in exchange of the promise that they’ll clean up Port-au-Prince, the dirtiest of the pair.

After their errands and the burn in their thighs growing too strong to bear, they sat together on the grass, the sun setting behind them. 

Karl took a sip of water and undid the first two buttons of his shirt, feeling exhausted. “Where is Mister Drumm from? I can’t recognize his accent.”

“Hm? Oh, Haiti, I think. I’ve known him since I was a kid, he’s really nice. Taught me a lot of stuff. When I was being a brat my dad would send me here so he would make me wash all the horses and clean out their horseshoes. Or just wipe up shit.”

He could already imagine a younger, even brattier Stephen being forced to work all day. It was an amusing image, until he started thinking about what Drumm must look like working around the farm. Riding horses. Possibly shirtless. Karl licked his lips, lost in his train of thought.

Karl hummed in thought and could see Stephen smirking out of the corner of his eyes. “ _ Karl Amadeus Mordo,”  _ He said in an accusatory tone. “You want to suck his dick, don’t you?”

“What?!”

“Oh come on, you were practically drooling at him.” Stephen nudged him on his shoulder. “You aren’t subtle at all.”

“What, are you jealous?” Karl teased back. “He is very handsome, that’s all. I am happily in a relationship with a very ridiculous American boy.”

“Really? Shit, do I know him?”

They both laughed, bodies resting on the grass and taking in the last bit of sun that would kiss their skin. He turned his body to listen to Stephen as he spoke. “Yeah, he’s pretty hot. He’s just like a teacher to me, y’know? I never thought about it that way that much.”

“I understand. He’s just so... big.” He didn’t intend his voice to come out as breathless as it did but it made Stephen laugh again.

“So, you like big boys, huh?”

“I think so. It makes me wonder why I’m dating you in the first place.”

Stephen hit him jokingly on the shoulder, “Shut up. I got some muscle, and I’m already taller than you.” 

“I doubt you’ll be able to keep it for much longer, with your upcoming residency and such. You’ll have a diet of nothing but pizza and stress, at least that’s what I’ve heard.”

Stephen rested his head on the ground again and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, that’s not for another two years tho. I’ll still have time to hang out... sort of, not that med students hang out that much.”

“It is all worth it, though.” He comforted. He knew how much Stephen valued his free time and his freedom, but he also knew that he was following his dream. If only he were so lucky. 

“How’s college in Romania? You know which one you’re going to?” 

He looked away. “Why did you seem embarrassed when Drumm said you were good with animals?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m asking a simple question, that’s all.”

Stephen frowned. “Fine. It’s because every time I said I was going to be a neurosurgeon no one believed me ‘cause they thought I was gonna help give birth to horses and cows for the rest of my life. And it’s embarrassing cause I know I’m more than that, and I did it all to help, but no one would take me seriously. Happy now?”

Stephen's anger died down with his words, he was thankful, he didn’t want to end up arguing about this. But he didn’t want to talk about it either. He knew Stephen would keep asking until he got an answer.the man was nothing but persistent.

Karl cleared his throat. “Actually... I’m not sure if I will study in Romania anymore.”

At this, Stephen sat up and looked at him. “I thought you were gonna study law in Bucharest.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe I could study law in another country. England, perhaps. Or Hong Kong. I don’t have the option of choosing  _ what  _ I will study but perhaps I could decide  _ where _ . England is my top choice for now. It is... closer to New York.”

A hand held his own, squeezing it gently. “Karl, you don’t have to do that for me--”

“I’m not,” he cut off. “I... want to get away from them, as far as possible. I tasted freedom here with you, I don’t want to lose it.” 

He wondered if Stephen would kiss him now because of this. He didn’t, just stared at him with a sad smile. Karl hoped it wasn’t pity, he didn’t want anyones pity. He already made up his mind and he wanted to study somewhere that wasn’t Romania. Whether or not he would do it was another thing, but he had a few more weeks to consider that.”

Stephen moved closer to him. “If you could study whatever you wanted, if you could be anything... what would you be?”

Karl sighed. “Stephen...”

“Come on, baby. Doesn’t hurt to dream a bit.”

“It does, actually. I don’t want to consider unrealistic possibilities.”

Stephen fell silent in thoughts about God knows what. He stood up and told him that he wanted to go home, it was already night time and they were supposed to eat dinner. By “eat dinner” he meant that they would eat by themselves at the porch, or in one of their rooms, since Stephen still didn’t feel up to eating near his father anytime soon. The American stood up without a word and followed him back to their house. 

Their house, the space they’ve built for each other. It was a slip of the tongue, a frivolous thought. He shook it away, it wouldn’t be theirs for much longer anyway.

On the path nearing the farm, Stephen stopped him. They were just a few feet away, Karl really didn’t want to talk about anything right now. His thighs still burn, his head now ached at the thoughts swarming in his mind. “What is it?”

“I, uh, was just thinking about how I think you’d be a really good professor.”

Karl narrowed his eyes.

“Like, you’d be good at teaching something. Maybe you could be become a law professor or something else. I don’t know, I... it’s just a thought.”

He knew Stephen was trying to be helpful. His meddling should piss him off, it usually would, but the man was trying his best to make him feel better. For that, at least, he should be grateful. He didn’t have anyone else in his life who did that for him. “It’s a nice thought. Thank you.”

He said nothing else, not really knowing how to answer. Instead, he outstretched his hand for Stephen to take and they made their way back home.

  
  


\---

 

Karl has never been this drunk in his life.

He wasn’t going to drink too much, originally. Even when he helped himself to a drink back home, or when he had beer with Stephen, he would limit himself. Karl was used to being the the responsible one, either he ended up driving or he had to make sure he didn’t wake up groggy and irritable. There always was some bottle or flask of alcohol hidden somewhere in his boarding school common room, and even if no one would share it with him, he could always help himself to a sip if need be. He never did, preferring to take the high ground unlike the rest of his annoyingly loud classmates.

But Wong had a way with words, and he’d never tried a drink so fruity and delicious until Stephen mixed his vodka with different kinds of juice. Suddenly, he found himself in Wong’s room along with Stephen, swaying in his place and taking sip after sip of his third cocktail.

Ha,  _ cock- _ tail.

Wong slept in the attic. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t large either. Just enough space to keep a twin sized bed, a bookshelf that was filled to the brim with novels, and a desk with his laptop. It was extremely organized, which felt like a breath of fresh air after being so used to Stephen’s messier self. He also hid his marijuana very well, Karl had no idea where it could be or if it was even in the building. All he knew was that Wong’s father was a old, quiet man, who didn’t seem to mind whatever they were doing up here, or the fact that Stephen had come up with a box of liquor.

Stephen and Wong both seemed to be in better shape than him, though Wong seemed to be the most resilient of all. The two of them were playing a card game Karl forgot the name of, but it involved the removal of clothes, and Wong was winning.

“Listen, are you sure you want to keep going?” Wong raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He’d only taken off his hat and his shoes, while Stephen was down to his underwear and socks. 

“Yeah, come on. One more round.” Stephen laughed and took another card, then made a face that could only mean disappointment after looking at his choices. “Shit.”

“I really don’t want to see your dick, just give it up, Stephen.” 

The smaller man picked up his jeans and shirt and started to put them on again. He didn’t seem self-conscious about his bruises anymore, at least around Wong. “Fine, but we’re playing again later from scratch.”

Karl eyed Stephen’s muscular frame as he sipped on his drink and smiled to himself. Until the man took away the drink from his lips to kiss him.

Wong threw a wad of paper in their direction. “Stop. Not in this room.”

Stephen pulled away and huffed. “Why not? This isn’t the first time we’ve kissed here.”

“Look at him,” Wong pointed at Karl, who waved back. “He’s already drunk, give him some water before he passes out.”

Stephen grumbled out a  _ fine _ and headed downstairs. While he waited, Karl moved to sit next to Wong, resting his head on the man’s shoulder. “Where did Stephen go? I miss him.”

Wong chuckled. “He went to get you some water. Are you alright?”

Karl nodded, his cheek pressed against Wong’s shirt. “I am fine. Just... want more.”

“More what?”

“Time... with Stephen.” He mumbled. “He’s a good kisser.”

“He’s the  _ only _ person you’ve kissed, Karl. How could you say he’s good at it?”

Karl pulled away and thought for a moment. “You just know, right? The sparks and the feelings, the way he moves his tongue--”

Wong covered his mouth. “Alright, that’s enough.” With that, Karl managed to stay quiet, still smiling to himself at the memories of their shared kisses. “Besides, I taught him how to do everything he’s done to you.”

Right, Karl forgot that Stephen and Wong used to be a thing, that Wong was Stephen’s first with it came to most things. Usually, he would try to ignore the jealousy brewing in his chest, and the slight anger he felt when he remembered that he hadn’t known Stephen early on enough to meet him when he was still innocent and awkward like him. Now, he wanted to know everything about their past. He pushed Wong’s hand away and widened his eyes, alcohol not leaving his system anytime soon. “How was he at kissing before?”

“Like any other fifteen year old learning how to kiss, too much tongue and too much groping. He’s always been inpatient.” 

Karl laughed even as he heard Stephen’s footsteps come up the stairs again to hand him a glass of water, sitting beside him. He watched Karl giggle and Wong smirk against bottle of beer. “Were you two talking about me?”

“Obviously,” Wong replied. “Karl was curious about our escapades and your learning experience.”

He looked to his side and saw Stephen blush. “Oh, right. Hey, we were all bad at it at one point in our lives.”

Wong gave him a deadpan look. “I wasn’t.”

“Stephen said I do not have a gag reflex.” Karl spoke up, holding up the glass of water to his face.

Even with his disinterest in relationships and probably sex, Wong widened his eyes at his words. Stephen only gave his friend a smug look. 

Huddled between his boyfriend and his friend, both taller than himself, Karl felt a rush of blood pool in his cheeks and down his body. He pressed his legs together to hide anything that might pop out, chugging down some more water until the cup was empty. “Tell me more embarrassing stories about Stephen, Mrs. Strange didn’t have as many as I thought she would.”

Stephen groaned but still wrapped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close until he was resting on the man’s chest. It felt so odd being accustomed to so much intimacy at this point, that Wong wouldn’t bat an eyelash at how close they were. Instead he thought for a moment and smile. “Have I told you about the time in eight grade--”

Stephen responded immediately. “Don’t.” 

“Stephen had bracers that made him lisp.”

“Stop.”

“And the girl he had a crush on also had bracers--”

“Oh my god, Wong.”

“Their bracers got stuck together while they made out and they had to walk to the nurse with their conjoined teeth.” 

Karl barked out a laugh while Stephen hung his head in his hands. 

The night went on like this, with Stephen and Wong deflecting and arguing of stories of each other, embarrassing past events that now just seemed silly. Like the time Stephen tried to learn how to do magic tricks. Or the time Wong ditched his first ever violin recital to go watch a horror movie with Stephen. They have known each other for years, they probably had countless more stories to tell. Karl enjoyed them all, listening in silence as the alcohol slowly left his body.

“--And then dad made us clean the stables for Mister Drumm for a month, but Donna got out scot free. I still don’t know how.”

Wong smirked, “It’s because she’s the favorite.”

“Shut up.” He turned to Karl and kissed his temple. “You alright?”

Karl looked at his hands and didn’t notice until then that he’d been picking at them. “I wish... I had met you all earlier, when I was a kid. It’s a silly thought but... perhaps things could have been different.”

Wong raised an eyebrow. “Really? I think you and Stephen would have hated each other.”

“Yeah, I was a really dirty kid. I would have been rubbing mud and boogers all over your expensive kindergarten clothes.”

Wong scoffed and rolled his eyes as if he had personal experience with what Stephen had just said. 

Alcohol still slightly coursing through his blood, Karl let out a sad smile. “Then I’m happy I met you now... Sorry, I--”

Karl shook his head and excused himself to the bathroom, pulling himself from Stephen’s grasp. He didn’t understand why he felt so sad, this was supposed to be a happy, stress-free night all for Stephen. And he was ruining it with his own ridiculous emotions.  _ This _ was why he didn’t drink.

After he washed his face and breathed, the young man in the mirror looked back. He looked tired, dark skin and full lips and hair that hadn’t been properly cut or taken care of in more than a month. 

There was a knock on the door, Karl told him to come in without a moment’s hesitation. He knew who it was already.

Stephen came in with another glass of water and a small towel. “Hey, everything alright?”

“Yes, just... recollecting my thoughts.”

“Oh, I thought you came here to throw up.” Stephen set what he brought aside and stepped closer to him for a hug. The man was so tactile, always needy. He wondered if Stephen was somehow as touch-starved as he was. “You wanna talk about it?”

“It’s fine. I just needed to wash my face.”

Stephen pulled him closer. “No, it’s not. Just talk to me, baby. You’ve been doing everything  _ I  _ want this week, let’s talk about what Karl wants.”

Despite his frustration, Karl couldn’t help but let out a small smile when he was this close to the other man. “There is nothing to talk about, it was what I said: I wished I met you earlier in life. I wish I had years of stories worth of being yours.”

Stephen’s voice came out like a squeak. “ _ Mine?” _

Karl rolled his eyes, no ill-intent behind it. “Yes, yours. I know you say that I would have hated you or we would have argued constantly but... at least I would have had a friend.”

“Oh, babe--” Stephen kissed his temple. “Are you jealous of Wong?”

“No, you idiot, I’m... mad that I had to almost die in order to meet you.” His voice felt strained, actually mad at their circumstances. He shook his head and leaned against the bathroom wall. Stephen stood in front of him, his arms wrapped around Karl’s neck. 

“I’m... I’m sorry.” Of course, Stephen wouldn’t know what to say. Who could blame him? They were young, and confused, and Karl had suffered far more trauma than the other man did, he had been forced to mature faster. Even if he had somehow met Stephen much earlier he doubted that he would have been allowed to spend time with him for long.

Karl nodded and accepted his boyfriend’s unneeded apology with a kiss. He liked initiating them --- no matter how many times he did so it always caught Stephen off guard.

The kiss went on for longer than anticipated, long enough for Wong to probably know that they’re not coming back into the room anytime soon. Stephen rolled his hips against his own, pushing him to the wall. Karl decided early on that he very much enjoyed kissing, he could grow drunk with it, and he wished he could stay like this for hours on end. 

He pulled away and moved to Stephen’s neck instead. They were no longer a secret, he could leave hickies on Stephen’s pale skin --- adorn him with them even if they were just small, red ones. If Stephen had to still have bruises, he could at least give him one that he welcomed. The taller man shuddered and leaned his head to the side, giving him more access. “Karl...”

The breathless, quiet voice beside his ear reminded him that there was something he wanted to ask Stephen, something he’s wanted for a while.

“Stephen, I--” Karl licked his lips and avoided all eye contact. If he were pale, his cheeks would be beet red, he could feel them burning. “I want to do something with you.”

Stephen gave him a smug look, “Anything you want, baby.”

“I... I would like to have you inside me.” 

The smug look in his boyfriend’s face disappeared and instead was replaced by wide eyes and parted lips. With their chests so close together, he could feel Stephen’s heartbeat going as fast as his own, bursting with anticipation. 

“Like, right now?” Stephen stammered and looked around them. “I didn’t bring any condoms and I don’t have... any lube or anything. Uh, I don’t think we can use conditioner, right?”

“I thought you would have done this before, have you not?”  

“No. I mean, I have had sex with guys but I’ve never put my dick... there.” For the first time in a while, Stephen looked genuinely embarrassed. 

“Well, we weren’t doing it tonight but we are certainly not doing any time soon.”  Karl huffed and pushed Stephen away, gently. “I... I want it to be special. In an actual bed, in private, all of it.”

“But we can still do other things while we find the perfect time, right?”

He smirked, “of course. How else will I get prepared?”

He swore Stephen short-circuited, it made him laugh. Karl enjoyed catching him off guard like this. “I’m tempted to just leave now so we can head home and try that out.”

“No, we are not. It’s not even midnight, and we  _ promised _ Wong we would stay over at least once.”

With a saddened sigh, he agreed, and they both made their way back to Wong’s room. He looked at the two of them, then at Stephen, and rolled his eyes. “If I find any cum on my bathroom I’ll get pissed off.”

Stephen sat next to with his, one arm around Karl’s shoulders, and laughed. “Don’t worry, we haven’t done anything naughty just yet.”

Wong looked at Karl instead, not trusting Stephen’s claims.

“No, we didn’t do anything. Your bathroom is spotless.”

At that, Wong actually smiled and handed Karl another drink. They ended up staying awake until the crack of dawn, listening to music and drinking themselves silly, and eventually crashing all on Wong’s bed out of exhaustion.

 

\----

 

The only thing he remembers before succumbing to sleep again was going into Stephen’s car with the strongest headache he’s ever had, driving back to the man’s home, then collapsing on Stephen’s bed once more. He doesn’t know what time it was when he woke up again, but all he could think about was that most of the day had been wasted and it was all his fault. 

Karl yawned and rubbed at his eyes. He needed a shower.

As it turned out, it was just four in the afternoon. While it had been the latest time that Karl had ever woken up on, they still had enough hours to spend together.

Except he couldn’t find Stephen anywhere. 

Karl gave up after searching around the house, asking both Donna and Mrs. Strange where Stephen could be. Neither of them knew, claiming that they had seen him just two hours ago, and he could feel the worry radiating off of them like heat. He decided to distract himself by making some coffee for the three of them and eating a proper meal, something he hadn’t had since the day before. 

An hour passed and Stephen finally came through the fence and running inside with a smile on his face. Mrs. Strange scolded him for disappearing without a word but his only punishment ended up being that he needed to eat as well. Karl sat beside him, reading, and eyed the plastic bag that Stephen still held by his side.

“Where were you?” He asked, slipping a hand inside the bag. Stephen moved it out of the way.

“Buying something. It’s a surprise.” 

Karl raised a brow but said nothing and continued to read his novel. It was one lend to him by Wong, as he’d been doing for the last couple of weeks. Stephen did not read novels as much so it was nice to have someone who appreciated the written word as much as himself.

The American spoke up again, “actually, I was thinking we could stay in and watch a few movies. We could watch something you like.”

“Does blood make you squeamish?” Karl asked without looking up from his novel.

“Nah. And if it did, I’d be in a lot of trouble being a doctor.”

Beside them, Donna spoke up. “You’re still in pre-med, thought.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been dissecting cow brains and pig guts for a while now. You learn to handle it.” 

That didn’t seem to satisfy Donna. “Can I watch it with you guys?”

Stephen’s face turned from a smirk to a frown. He whispered something in her ear that Karl couldn’t catch a word off, causing her to roll her eyes. “Fine, I’ll just watch something myself.” Then walked away in a huff.

“Love you!” Stephen yelled out. Donna looked back and simply stuck out her tongue at him.

They made their way back to Stephen’s room and, as promised, huddled under the covers to watch a film. Karl ended up choosing  _ Ichi The Killer _ , but Stephen only managed to last thirty minutes before they had to turn it off.

Karl laughed at him, “I thought you said you could handle it.”

Stephen was still covering his eyes, looking paler than usual. “I didn’t know what level of gore you were talking about.”

“Pity, my second pick was  _ Texas Chainsaw-- _ ”

Stephen cut him off before he could even finish the sentence. “Uh, no. Let’s just... watch something tamer. A rom-com or something. Why do you even like these movies?”

He shrugged. “It calms me. The world is already terrifying, watching gore and horror films makes it all seem a bit less... terrible. At least for a moment.”

“Alright, no need to get poetic just because you like Tarantino movies.” Stephen teased and put on  _ You Got Mail _ instead, which felt like the opposite of the movies he liked. 

Curled under the blanket, their backs against the wall at they sat to watch the laptop screen, Stephen held Karl to his chest, fingers idly drawing circles on the man’s forearm. It was impossible to ignore, even if he was trying to focus on Tom Hank’s acting, but the touch of the other man gave him goosebumps in anticipation of what might happen.

His memory of the events of last night were hazy, but he remembers their talk in the bathroom almost perfectly. Judging by that, and by Stephen’s smile when he said that the contents of the plastic bag were a  _ surprise,  _ he had no doubt that it had something to do with sex.

Karl cleared his throat and tried his best to focus on the movie, his eyes intent on watching the screen and  _ not _ at Stephen. 

(Were they condoms? Some sort of toy? Something he didn’t even know about? Stephen had much more experience than himself, even if he had never been inside another man, maybe it was something that Karl didn’t even know existed.)

He bit his lip. He wished he hadn’t come here as a virgin, even if he doubted it would have been under the best circumstances, being in an all-boy’s boarding school and all, but he felt so clueless and lost -- Karl hated the feeling, he felt so out of control. 

Beside him, Stephen laughed at the film, a joke he’d probably already heard dozens of times before, and placed a hand on Karl’s thigh, his thumb softly running over the fabric of his trousers. 

Karl pretended he didn’t notice.

Time went on, Stephen still had not removed his hand from Karl’s thigh, squeezing gently when he laughed or stroking his hands up and down. Karl could feel his ears burning, he didn’t understand why Stephen continued to tease him like this, or why he was reacting so strongly. Until Stephen slipped his hand between Karl’s thighs and Karl felt his mind go blank.

He continued to pretend that he didn’t notice. Resting his back against Stephen’s chest, Karl kept his breathing as steady as possible, his lips parting open with every touch of Stephen’s larger hands taking hold of his cock through the fabric -- squeezing, palming him, all of his weaknesses.

Karl almost bucked his hips at the touch, he wanted more. He hated teasing, he just wanted to be touched. Stephen continued to hold him close as if it was nothing, trying to get him to break. But he wasn’t going to allow him to get the upper hand this time, even if Karl felt as if he would melt with every touch.

His patience always wore thin around Stephen.

Movie still playing in the background, Karl reached down to unbutton his pants and pull them down along with his underwear. He heard Stephen chuckle behind him, his hand moved underneath his shirt in the meantime. “Needy?”

Karl gasped out, his voice is silence already broken. “Yes. Just... continue.”

Stephen did as told and stroked him, slowly and lightly, barely enough to satisfy him. Karl felt his heartbeat -- the door was unlocked, and they hadn’t had dinner, anyone could walk in on Stephen touching his cock at any moment, and yet he wanted nothing less than to move.

Karl could feel the other man’s clothed erection press up against him. He turned his head for a kiss, lazy and slow, expecting Stephen to pick up the pace because of it. He didn’t, his hands still barely grazing the expanse of his skin.

“Stephen,  _ please--”  _ Karl groaned, his body now settled between Stephen’s legs with his back on his chest. It earned him a kiss to the side of his neck instead. 

“You want to know what my surprise is?” Karl could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He nodded. 

Without pushing Karl away, Stephen reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of a clear liquid. Karl took it in his hand, confused. “Is this lubricant?”

“Yep, drove a while to find a place that sold one that wasn’t flavored or warming or anything.” 

He bit his lip. “Are you going to fuck me? Tonight?”

“As tempting as it would be, no. Not tonight. It wouldn’t be special, right?” 

Karl was ready to tell Stephen to forget his request and have his way with him, but Stephen continued. “I want to finger you and stretch you out.”

Now Karl felt his heart beating away like mad, urging him to move against Stephen and kiss him. He’d wanted this for so long, wanted to know how it felt like. But at the thought of  _ actually _ having more than a finger inside him with the promise of something else later on, Karl wasn’t so sure. 

“I, um--” He moved away from his boyfriend and covered his erection with a pillow. “I don’t know. It will hurt, won’t it.”

“Not if I’m careful. Don’t worry, these are the hands of a surgeon, precise and careful. They’ll treat you well.”

Despite the words that made his ears feel as if they were burning, Karl started to put on his jeans again. “Let me just... go to the bathroom for a moment.”

He didn’t wait for Stephen to answer and ran, jeans not even properly on, and locked himself in the bathroom. No, he wasn’t going to have a panic attack because of this, but he was certainly panicking nonetheless.

Right, there was no point in dilly-dallying around. He needed to act  _ fast _ , before Stephen grew bored and changed his mind.

Karl took off his jeans again and cleaned himself  _ properly _ , ignoring his unrelenting erection as much as possible as he tried his best to keep this as hygienic as possible. After Stephen had the audacity to... eat him out a while ago without warning, as wonderful as it felt, he couldn’t allow himself to kiss Stephen hours after that until he washed his teeth. This will be no different.

Christ, it all looked so much more carefree in porn.

Drying himself off, he thought for a moment before putting on his pants again. Perhaps he could try stretching himself first, just to test how it felt. He did feel it that one time in the shower, a single finger that felt strange ( _ ha) _ and not entirely pleasurable in it by itself. He worried now that fingering might also be a ploy of pornography, that only women really found it pleasurable. 

Karl bent over the bathroom sink, holding himself steady with one hand and holding up the second to his lips. He licked a finger, covering it as much saliva as he could, and reached back. He pressed his finger to his entrance and ---

No, he couldn’t, it just felt too odd. He was already regretting this.

Karl put on his pants again and made his way back to Stephen’s room. Maybe he could call it off and tell Stephen that they could try it some other time, or that they could just do something else.

When he walked back in the room, Stephen was completely naked and laying on the bed like the woman from Titanic, except he looked ridiculous, and there was an Anita Baker song was playing in the background.

It was... very tacky. All that was missing were some rose petals.

Karl locked the door behind him and stood beside the bed, shuffling where he stood. “Stephen, I think --”

The American cut him off, eyes staring intently with a wicked smile on his face. “Come lay next to me.”

He obliged and did so as he spoke. “As much as I’d like to try this I don’t think I can-- Oh.  _ Oh.”  _

Stephen wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying and, to be honest, neither was Karl. He felt the man kiss the expanse of his chest as diligent hands started to remove his pants once more, leaving the two of them completely bare. At the sight of Stephen’s cock, half-hard and slender as compared to his own, Karl’s mind went blank. He couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Could you get on your back? Get comfortable, that’s it.” Stephen sat up on his knees to direct him. Karl felt smaller, all of the sudden, remembering that he was a foot shorter than him and easily towered over. He bit his lip and moved back, head resting on a pillow. His discomfort had been washed away by arousal, though he still couldn't stop his heart from beating so quickly. 

“You good?”

It took a moment for Karl to realize Stephen spoke. “I... I don’t know.”

He stopped and leaned down to kiss him -- a reassuring, slow kiss, that felt far too tender for the position they were currently in. “How about I just keep going and if you want to stop, just tell me and I well, okay?” His voice had a slight tremble to it, as if he was trying really hard to control himself.

Karl nodded wordlessly. Stephen settled between his legs and held them by the bottom of his knees, pushing his legs back and telling Karl to hold them in place. Usually, he wouldn’t like to be bossed around like this, but there was something about the way Stephen spoke that made him obey without a second thought. Maybe it was the position he was in, or the fact that his voice seemed to have a sly smile to it at all times. 

The man’s body was still adorned with bruises but he looked as resilient as ever, fairly muscular. The bruises made him look bad, in a good way, like the sort of boys that his mother would tell him to avoid at all costs.

He liked it.

Karl’s held his legs apart, giving Stephen as much access to him as possible. Cool air hit his body in places he never expected it to and he shivered. Stephen noticed and crept closer, his now hard cock pressed to his inner thigh. 

Stephen took his cock and pressed it against Karl’s hole. He whimpered in slight panic, but Stephen stopped him before he said anything. “Just..  wanna know how it feels like. Don’t worry, I’ll touch you properly in a sec.”

The cock moved to touch his own, languid movements of his hips making them both gasp. “Fuck, sorry. Just needed that.”

Karl didn’t respond but he did lick his hips at the feeling unconsciously. He wanted Stephen  _ now _ and this teasing was getting on his nerves. “Hurry up, Stephen!”

“Okay, okay, okay--” He finally pulled himself together and grabbed the bottle of lubricant, spreading a generous amount on his fingers. It looked slimmer than he expected, like thick oil or synthetic pre-cum. Karl gulped. “It’s going to feel a bit cold at first.”

Karl didn’t  _ care _ about the temperature. The lubricant could end up burning his skin, for all he cared, he just wanted to be touched.

A finger pressed against his entrance and suddenly all of Karl’s neediness was replaced by nervous anticipation once more. It felt so odd and yes, cold against his sensitive skin. Stephen circled his finger around the rim, coating it with lubricant. “You ready?”

Karl didn’t notice his he was breathing this quickly. “Yes. Just... do it, already.”

Stephen rested his head against his chest and chuckled. His finger, long and slender and  _ oh so close _ , pushed into him slowly. Karl let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

When Stephen first did this to him in the shower, it felt nicer than this. Now that all of his senses were focused on the feeling of Stephen digit going moving in and out, slowly not to hurt him, Karl could only feel an awkward discomfort. It wasn’t enough.

He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. If not for the soft music playing in the background, the room would be silent. His breath hitched, bucking his hips upwards and silently begging for more, for something different, but Stephen had only barely started. 

“Trying to, uh, find your sweet spot.” The American chuckled nervously, still probing inside him. “Just, give me a sec--”

Karl reached a hand down to stroke his cock, trying to find some sort of release while Stephen stretched him out. He looked up at his boyfriend with half lidded eyes and parted lips, trying to lull him into touching him. “Try another, please.”

Stephen nodded wordlessly and tried to fit in another finger, coating him with more lube. It burned, just the slightest bit at the stretch, but not entirely uncomfortable. Karl rocked into Stephen’s fingers. It was so much better than just one, he was starting to see the appeal.

They kissed again -- Stephen pushed in down to his knuckles and made Karl gasp against his mouth, their kissing became open mouthed and lazy and he continued to fuck him. With his reactions, Stephen became more confident, and started to move faster inside him, scissoring him open.

Karl’s free hand went to grab at the bed sheets.  _ Oh _ .  _ That _ was the feeling he was looking for, the feeling he’d dreamed about and yearned for so long. He needed to keep quiet, make sure they didn’t alert anyone else in the house about what they were up to, but  _ Christ,  _ he wanted moan and urge for more without a moment’s hesitation.

Karl pulled Stephen down for another kiss, this one desperate and hungry, only to pull apart to speak with a drunken voice. “I want another, I can take it.”

Stephen didn’t answer, simply hiding his face on the crook of Karl’s neck and kiss him there, leaving small love bites everywhere. In the heat of the summer night, Karl could feel their bodies sheen with sweat and pre-cum but at the moment, he couldn’t care, all he could focus was on Stephen fucking him with his fingers, a third one pressing against his hole.

The man spoke to his ear, a whisper with a smile in his voice. “This is how thick my cock is. Imagine how it’ll feel like, baby.” 

Stephen could be so vulgar, so disgusting. Usually, Karl would roll his eyes in the disdain, but now he was rocking on Stephen’s fingers, a slight smile on his face from the pleasure and the sheer realization that he had a boyfriend, a boyfriend who  _ wanted him _ , who was kissing his shoulders and neck and whispering nothing but filth. “ _ Da. Oh Doamne.”  _

“Have I ever told you that I really like making you cum? You look so carefree, so cute. I want you to finish all over your chest.” As Stephen spoke, he could feel the man’s cock press against his thigh -- Karl stroked his cock faster, on the verge of finishing. He wasn’t going to last long. “I bet I can fit four...”

“ _ Please _ .” Karl sobbed, not entirely sure what he was begging for. Stephen didn’t push another finger into him and continued to fuck him open. He was trembling, burning, it was all so much.

With a bite on his shoulder and a firm stroke of his own hand, Karl came all over his chest. He had to bite his lip or else he was going to scream out and wake the entire house. Each harsh breath came out slower than the last, his orgasm coming down eventually with Stephen’s fingers still inside his oversensitive body. Karl whimpered and squirmed against the other man. 

“You liked that? Told you you’d like it.” Stephen groaned out, finally pulling out his fingers and wiping them on the bed sheets. Karl still felt too weak to answer -- on any other moment, he would hate feeling this bare and vulnerable, but now, he was drunk on it. He gave Stephen a weak nod.

“You didn’t... You haven’t finished.” Karl reached over to take Stephen’s cock and return the favor, but his hand was move away. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not finished with you yet.” Stephen huffed and dripped more lubricant onto his cock, stroking it in front of him. Karl couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight, it was delicious. “Could you press your legs together? Like that? That’s it.”

Mind still in a haze, Karl did as asked. Was Stephen going to fuck him? He still felt too sensitive, too spent -- he doubts he’ll be able to last long if it happened. As much as he enjoyed it, Karl barely felt ready for  _ that _ . And it wasn’t the right time, he wanted it to be special. 

Stephen held him by his knees and placed his ankles over his shoulder, one hand wrapped around them to keep the steady and close together, and the other holding onto his hip. “Stay still, this won’t hurt or anything.” 

Karl’s eyes began to well up with tears. Why was Stephen doing this? They had a plan. He simply closed his eyes shut and braced for the burn, for the slight pain on his oversensitive, heated flesh--

But it never came. 

He felt the other man’s cock peek in and out between his thighs, covered in lubricant as if he was fucking them. Karl didn’t think it would be so pleasurable but Stephen had his eyes closed, his head leaning against his knees and gasping with every thrust of his hips. Pre-cum dripped from his cock and onto Karl’s thighs and on his own member, threatening to grow hard again at the sight. 

Face flushed red and focused, Stephen huffed out a laugh. “This feels better than I expected.  _ Fuck.”  _ His fingers tightened their grip around his knees as he moved faster, in an uncalculated pace. 

All Karl could do was watch in silent awe, pressing his thighs as close as he could without hurting the other man. “That’s it, baby. Come on.” Stephen continued to speak, scattered pet names and reassurances that made Karl’s skin burn up and he found himself hiding his face on his pillow. 

Stephen came shortly after on his abdomen and thighs, leaving him a mess. They were both panting because of it and leaned down to kiss, not caring about the mess they made as their chests pressed together. “That was... that was real good.” The American huffed out with a dreamy smile. 

Karl nodded. “I liked that very much. Let’s do it again.”

“Now? Shit, I created a monster.” 

“No, not right now.” Karl couldn’t help but kiss him again but then grimaced at the filth between them. Stephen fixed it by cleaning it up with his shirt. He was in charge of his own laundry, anyway. “I think I’m too tired for another round.”

“Let me know if you change your mind, I’m up for one whenever you are.” He felt the taller man’s arm wrap around his chest and waist and pull him close, until they were laying side by side. Curling up with someone else while completely bare was still something so odd and new, he’d never felt this kind of warmth. Stephen reached down to cover them with the duvet, even if they were still slightly covered in sweat, and kissed him. 

His eyes looked dreamy, half-lidded and gorgeous. Karl felt like he was under a spell, the sort that made him weak every time Stephen touched him. He felt weak, the way his grandfather would warn him about. The way he never wanted to be.

He wished he could stay like this forever.

“I know I say this every time, but I wish I could’ve taken a picture of you like that. You looked like the best porn video I’ve ever seen.” 

Karl scoffed, he hardly believed he could look that good, but the ridiculous compliment was not unwelcome. “Thank you, I’ve studied it a lot. But you are  _ never _ going to film me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You know, for a while I thought you were one of those  _ extreme  _ virgins. The ones that don’t even know where the dick goes or never jacks off.” 

“Oh no, I am not that sheltered. I am still a desperate teenager with internet in my house.” 

They both laughed, foreheads resting against each other. He could fall asleep like this, right then and there, but at a very sudden realization that came out of nowhere, Karl spoke up again with a sad voice. “Oh, Stephen...”

The man looked immediately worried. “What's wrong? You aren’t regretting this, right?”

He shook his head. “No, no... I only now realized that I don’t any pictures of you. Of us.”

“Oh...” Stephen breathed out. “I thought you wouldn’t want any evidence or anything that could get loose.”

“I suppose that would be safest but I’d like something to remember you by. I just... hate it when people take pictures of me.”

“Why? Paparazzi?”

“No, any photos are usually taken of my grandfather, not me. But every picture that’s been taken of me has been orchestrated, like a serious family portrait... I could have preserved so many memories of us.”

He felt sad, as if he’d failed both himself and Stephen. It felt like such a mundane detail but in movies, in television, even in books, he sees couples take pictures and keep their relationship memories kept onto the end. It’s what they’re supposed to scrapbook when they’re old, it’s what they should be ripping apart when love is lost. It was all so hard when  _ his  _ relationship was supposed to be a secret in the first place.

Stephen reached beside him for something, Karl wasn’t looking, and then pulled him close to the crook of his neck again. 

“Is that a... instant camera?” 

Stephen smirked as he fumbled with the controls. It looked like a replica of the old sort cameras he would see so much. Perhaps it was even an original. Stephen’s love for the seventies and eighties really knew no bounds. “Yep, and it still works. Want to try it?”

He would have said no,  _ should have  _ said no, but Stephen snapped a picture of him before he could say anything. “Hey!”

The image came out not a moment later, Stephen fanned it dry. He handed it to him without a word -- it was him, half hidden beneath the duvet, his hair longer and unkempt and his face slightly surprised. It was ridiculous. 

He stole the camera from Stephen’s hand and had his revenge. Stephen’s picture came out blurrier, the man in it was laughing with closed eyes, hair still covering one of them. Damn it, it was going to be harder to take an unphotogenic shot of him than he thought. 

“Come here,” Stephen pulled him close and smiled at the camera. “Say cheese.”

Karl did not, in fact, say cheese but he did smile nonetheless. Just a bit. They took another, one with Stephen kissing his cheeks, one with sillier faces, one where they pretended they were crying.

It was night-time, and by all means they should have slept. But Karl didn’t want to fall asleep anymore, they had so little time and he wanted to spend every moment awake and next to the man he was falling in love with. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys argue, then come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey short chapter this week! next chapter will be a lot longer, i promise. we're nearing the end ya'll!!! next chapter will be in two weeks again. currently writing chapter 14 wooooo
> 
>  
> 
>  **WARNINGS: (SPOILER)** animal death, brief mention of abuse, homophobic slurs

They had three weeks left.

Three more weeks until they would part ways again. They still had not talked about the future, they still refused to confront what may happen. When will they call each other? When will they meet again? How will he hide this from his family, pretend that nothing out of the ordinary happened during the summer and lie that he didn’t just happen to meet someone that he cared for? Maybe fell in love with?

Karl had no answers -- ever since day one, he knew that this would be the reality of things, that he would be strong enough to face it the elephant in the room head on. Just like Stephen, he ignored it, and continued to pretend that they were undefeated. That they had all the time in the world.

Living here had turned him naive and hopeful. In the end, he will end up back in Romania, with an unwanted degree and a future wife and kids, and all will be miserable again. Stephen will forget him, find someone better, become a successful doctor and move on.

He thought it would be inevitable, but part of him wanted to try. Part of him believe that maybe, just maybe, it could all work out.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this at this hour. Then again, it was three in the morning, what else did people think about at this hour?

Beside him, Stephen stirred as he slowly woke up from his nap. Wong and him had fallen asleep ages ago, curled up in the same mattress. He was squished between the two men. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed it. The warmth of it, the attention -- hell, he might’ve even allowed it to go further, if Wong was willing. It seemed that his and Stephen’s... practicing had left a new, strong desire in him that he assumed he would skip, unlike other teenage boys, but alas.

He nudged Stephen completely awake, gently as to not wake up their friend. He sat up with a quiet yawn and watched as Stephen got off the mattress to look for his shirt. It would be a great sight to behold, if he wasn’t so preoccupied with his thoughts.

With the choice to leave without him noticing or  say goodbye to their friend and have to face the possible wrath of Wong after just being woken up, the two silently agreed to pick up their things and make their way out of the house. Stephen sent a quick text to his friend to reassure him that they were fine, though he doubted Wong would ever worry that much.

Stephen’s car was parked right in front of Wong’s house, Karl agreed to drive them this time seeing as he didn’t trust Stephen to stay awake properly on the way home. The two was quiet, no one person in sight, only a few scattered lights illuminating the streets. It was so different from Bucharest, from London -- he wondered what it would have felt like to grow up in such a small town.

In the car, Stephen immediately put on some music. Something calm, loud enough to keep him awake. The man probably didn’t even  _ want  _ to listen to music, but he possibly did it by habit at this point. Karl set his hands on the steering wheel, engine started and ready to go -- but he didn’t move, lost in thought.

He felt a light tug on the side of his arm. “Hey, let’s go.” Stephen reclined his seat. “You alright?”

“Huh? Oh,  _ da _ .” Karl replied without thinking. It only then hit him that he hadn’t moved, that they were still in the car.

They needed to talk about this. 

“I was... hoping we could talk, actually.”

Stephen yawned again. “About what?”

“About what happens next, after I leave.”

The man’s mood changed from relaxed to tense almost immediately. Or just annoyed as he scoffed and leaned his head against the door. “I don’t want to talk about that  _ now...”  _ He whined just like a teenager would. 

“Then when  _ will _ we talk about this? We have three weeks left, Stephen, practically less than that. Aren’t you worried that we might drift apart?” 

Stephen shrugged. “I don’t know, okay? We’ll just... we’ll just see what happens.”

Karl tightened his grip on the wheel and turned off the music; he wanted all of Stephen’s attention on him. “I can’t just “see” what happens with this. When will we meet again? How will I hide this from my parents? What will I even  _ tell  _ them when I say that I want you to come to Romania, or wherever I am?”

“Wait, you want me to come to Romania?”

“Of course I do, you idiot!” Karl closed his eyes and sighed. “Or I could come to you... I know that it will be difficult to see each other, what with your classes and with this still being a secret but I don’t want this to be just a memory, I want this to last.”

He didn’t know how Stephen reacted, he was looking out the window, out at the street as they sat in total silence the only sound was the car humming in place of music. 

“We can call each other. Skype. Y’know, stuff like that. Hell, I can even send letters if you want me to.”

At this, Karl couldn’t help but scoff. “Of course you’d write letters, it adds to your stupid eighties nostalgia trip. I’m not only talking about how we’ll communicate, I want to know how we’ll stay as a couple.”

“...Not really nostalgia if I was born in the late nineties.” 

He sighed at Stephen’s ill attempt at a joke. “This is useless.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say! I don’t have an answer, Karl. I’ve never had a long distance relationship, you’ve never even had a  _ relationship  _ before me.” His voice stung when he spoke, but he was right. Karl hated it when Stephen was right. “What makes you think either of us knows what we’re doing? We’re just kids!”

Without another word, he finally drove off, using all of his self-control not to jam his foot into the pedal and speed through the open road. Karl kept it all inside and allowed it to burn quietly.

Until Stephen spoke up again, the radio still off. “Listen, I’m sorry if you’re mad. It’s just the truth.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re always a little mad.”

Right, maybe this time they could talk. Not like adults, apparently, but at the very least have some semblance of a conversation. Karl slowed down just a bit and kept his eyes on the road. “I am strongly considering studying outside of Romania, actually.”

“Here in the US?” 

“My parents would prefer that I study in Europe, I think but... studying by myself would be good. I had a taste of freedom with you and I intend to keep it.”

Stephen nudged him on his side, he  _ knew  _ the man was smiling right now. “Don’t go and fall for any hot European boys, alright?”

He knew that he was joking, but Karl would die before dishonoring his word to Stephen. This was his first relationship, he wanted it to work, wanted to keep it truthful and honest. The idea of him ever falling for someone else and acting upon it behind Stephen’s back felt... appalling. He’d watched enough films to know how that usually goes.

“Actually, I thought we could talk about that too.” He began, sitting up straight in his seat. “You’ve mention your ex, Christine, a couple of times... Does she live near you?”

“She’s in the dorm next to mine. What, you think I’ll cheat on you with her? Are you jealous?”

Karl stayed silence, the back of his neck red hot red hot with embarrassment. “I was just asking.”

“No, you weren’t. You think I’m some kind of slut, that I’ll fuck her the instant I get back.” Stephen scoffed. “I thought you stopped being a posh asshole, but you’re still assuming shit about me.”

“I wasn’t assuming, I was curious!” Karl lied, he truly was worried Stephen would leave him the instant he left. Not because Stephen was a “slut”, but because he thought he wasn’t good enough. It’s no used in admitting it, he’ll look like he’s searching for pity. “...I am jealous, of course I would be. She gets to see you when I do not.”

In the end, all Stephen did was shrug. “Well, sorry she goes to the same college as me. Believe me, I didn't really want to see her every day anymore.”

“That’s not the point I was trying to make.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Stephen cover his face with his hands and groan. “Oh my god, I get it. I know, you’re gonna miss me and I’m going to miss you. What else do you want to discuss?”

“Could you act like an adult, for once?”

“Well, I only became an adult last year so forgive me if I’m bad at it.”

Karl tightened his grip around the steering wheel so forcefully, he thought he was going to rip it in half. 

Arguing was something that came naturally to him. He didn’t do it often, never had the gall to do it with his parents, but after so many years of seeing his family bicker and yell and scream... well, Karl learned how to do it from birth. They bickered from the rest of the ride, Karl trying to address the issues at hand while Stephen deflected it all with a joke, or an offhanded comment that made him want to throw the American out of the car. He swore he almost lost sight of the road at one point, and eventually the argument turned to that. Them something else, something that wasn’t important. 

The sun was coming up as they were close to Stephen’s home, but their arguing did not stop. It made him sick to his stomach, made him feel like the exact sort of person his mother wanted him to be, but he was so  _ angry _ , so fucking angry at himself, at Stephen, at his grandfather. He’d kept it inside for so long that it was blazing. Bruising. 

When Karl parked, right outside of the gate of the farm, they finally fell quiet. The air was tense, no music in the background was there to ease it all away. He didn’t even remember the last thing they were fighting about, didn’t care -- all he felt was... defeated. 

“Stephen?”

The other man spoke through gritted teeth, his arms crossed at his chest. “ _ What _ ?”

“...Is this all worth it?”

At this, Stephen just sounded angrier. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Is this all... worth fighting for? Should I even bother going home with this secret? I am breaking so many rules, you are going to be so busy. I... I don’t know about this anymore.”

When he spoke, his voice broke. Stephen’s did the same -- out of fury or anguish, he did not know. “Are you kidding me right now?! I told you I love you, you forced me to come out to my family, my dad thinks I’m an embarrassment. The entire damn town knows about  _ us _ ! All that bullshit about having to stay a secret, having to keep it on the downlow down the drain! I could be the greatest Doctor in the world and all my dad will see is a faggot, thanks to you.” He moved closer and moved his hair out of his way so Karl could see all of his face, all the recovering bruises. Faint, but still there. “I got beat up for you, kicked the shit out of me because Nick caught  _ us _ . If you think this isn’t worth it, then you just made me waste an entire summer thinking it was.” 

He flinched, just for a second. It was instinct by now, he knew Stephen wouldn’t hurt him. He knew the man wouldn’t lay a finger on him but for a moment, just a moment, he thought of his grandfather -- and had to look away. 

“Stephen, I--”

He was caught off before he could finish, the side door slammed loudly. He didn’t leave, not immediately, Karl didn’t look at Stephen as he peaked his face into the car, flipping him off. “You want some adult conversation? There’s your fucking adult conversation. Enjoy it, I’m going inside.” 

The eerie quiet lasted for a second before he heard a loud  _ thud _ on the side of the car. Stephen kicked it, twice, out of sheer frustration. No doubt it left a dent but he didn’t check, his head was held in his hands, and all he could think about at that moment was the feel of the trigger against his forehead, the one that had lead him here just a few months ago.

Part of him wished he could cry, or give out some semblance of emotional response, but Karl sat in silence, taking in every syllable and breaking it apart, feeling it all etch into his skin. 

Everything Stephen had said was so selfish, so self-centered, but he was right. He was all too right. 

Maybe he should not have been involved with Stephen in the first place. He should have just gone to Nepal, or New Zealand, or wherever else his other options were, and he could suffer in silence alone, another Summer erased from his memory, and he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Karl watched films where lovers fought, he watched ones where they argued and broke off and fell in love again. He didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that he would feel so hopeless afterwards. His grandfather was right, he shouldn’t speak unless spoken to, he should have just followed his family’s rules

Wrapped in his own self-pity, Karl didn’t hear the distant screech and whine until moments later. There was a commotion in the house, he could see it even from all this way back in the fence. 

Then, a gunshot. It made him jump in his seat

Karl only expected the worse. 

He drove,  _ fast _ \-- the road stopped at the entrance of the porch, where Mrs. Strange held Donna in her arms, covering the young girl’s eyes. Mr. Strange held a rifle pointed at the field, his line of sight moving to the sides as he looked for his target. Stephen was nowhere to be seen.

Karl got out the car immediately, slamming the door and heading for Mr. Strange. “What happened here?”

Mrs. Strange answered, voice tired. “A coyote came and got the livestock at the crack of dawn. Maybe two, we don’t know, but they’re all gone. We didn't hear it, I don’t know why I didn't hear it -- I usually... Oh, Lord. Eugene, please.”

Karl’s heart beat faster, struggling to ask the most important question. “Where is Stephen?” 

“The boy got in the  _ damn _ way and wouldn’t let me shoot them, saying it wouldn’t help, now he’s run into the cornfield and I don’t know where he is or the coyotes are. I swear, when I seem him --”

He didn't want to hear any more of this. The coop was covered with dead chickens, strewn across the front of their coop. The goats were dead, all four of them, including Oats, her stomach eaten into without mercy. He forced himself to look away, feeling nauseous. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at dead animals like this, he thought he would be used to it.

“Give me the gun.” 

Mr. Strange scoffed. “Listen kid, I don’t need you to come here and tell me how to--”

“Give me the gun  _ now _ ! Stop wasting time and let me hunt them for you!” 

“You know how to shoot?”

Karl gritted his teeth. “Mr. Strange, trust me and let me find your son.” 

He didn’t quite know how to decipher the look at got him. Mr. Strange looked both impressed at his words and doubtful that he knew how to shoot, but they didn’t have any time to discuss the truth, Karl needed to look for Stephen now. He knee Stephen wouldn't bring himself to hurt the animal no matter what it did to him -- Karl would have to do it for him.

The rifle was handed to him with a nod. “Fine, be a damn hero.” Mr. Strange huffed. “Go ahead and try to find him, I’m gonna go get my other one. Bev, stay put right here and keep an eye on Donna just in case they come out again.”

Karl did not waste another second and reloaded the gun just to prove a point. He walked out into the cornfield without another word, terrible thoughts swarming in his head

That the coyote bit Stephen, infecting him with a terrible disease. That there were more than one all attacking him at once. That the man had been forced to kill them, fend for himself, and was there all scared and alone.

Maybe he was just being paranoid.

It didn’t take long for him to find Stephen, a howl and surprised, human yell sent him off running at its direction off to the middle of the cornfield. Stephen must’ve been chased or done  _ something _ to provoke it, something was definitely wrong if the animal hadn’t tried to run off by now.

Stephen was huddled to the side, on the ground with a stick in his hand, as if he would ever use blunt for on the coyote, that was growling just three feet away. It hadn’t noticed him, he doubted Stephen had, either.

Karl raised the rifle without a moment’s hesitation, aiming for it’s head, just as his grandfather taught him.

It was the only fond memory he had of the man. He was young, barely ten, and they were in the family cabin for the winter. He remembered being bundled from the cold, while his grandfather did not care what he wore as he had his flask of scotch to keep him warm. He taught him how to shoot that week, cans and empty glass bottles. It was fun, his grandfather would pat him on the back encouragingly with the first kind words he’d ever heard from him. Karl didn’t care if he was slightly drunk at the time -- it had been nice, it had been a good day.

It ended with him shooting a deer right between the eyes, the recoil was so hard that it bruised his arm. His grandfather told him he did well, even if he had nightmares about the dead deer for a month after. For the first time ever, Karl wore a bruise with pride.

His thoughts were interrupted by Stephen yelling something out at him, something he didn’t pay attention to. But the coyote moved to face him, running to pounce as froth escaped from the sides of its mouth. 

“ _ No! Don’t shoot! _ ”

The bullet landed on it’s stomach instead, it fell to the ground before it could even get near Karl. He sighed, emerging from where he hid behind the cornstalks and reloaded the gun. Stephen stared at him in horror but Karl paid no mind

All he saw was Stephen head towards the definitely dead animal, trying to suppress its wound. Karl huffed, “Don’t touch its blood, you idiot!”

Stephen spoke with a shaking voice. “Rabies can’t be transmitted by blood. Karl, you didn’t have to kill it...”

“It was going to bite you, your father gave me a rifle. What else was I going to do?”

The animal was dead, or on the brink of it, there was nothing Stephen could do. He didn’t understand why the man still cared so much. “Killing them doesn’t help anyone, it doesn’t help livestock! We could have taken it to a vet!”

“Stephen, get away from it.”

“No! Do you really care  _ so little  _ about this?” His hands were covered in blood, Karl could only stare in disgust. “I can’t... I can’t save it. I could’ve--”

Karl tightened his grip on his rifle. “Stephen, if you’re going to be a doctor, this will not be the last time that someone, or some _ thing _ , dies in front of you.”

“Not like this,” He shook his head. “Never like this.”

“Please come with me so you can get cleaned up.”

When he shouted, he sounded like a child. “No!”

Almost on queue, Mr. Strange emerged from the cornfield, taking in the sight in front of him. Just like Karl, he grimaced. “Jesus, Stephen, get away from that thing and wash your hands.”

He didn’t protest this time, Stephen really didn’t say a word. He only left in a huff, keeping his arms in front of him in order not to get it on any of the blood on the produce. He didn’t look back at him, nor at his father. Karl handed the rifle back to Mr. Strange and nodded. 

“How much did it kill?” He asked, only now realizing what had happened

“I haven’t taken count properly yet, but I’m thinking three or four chickens are dead, two were bitten. Both of the baby goats are, well... barely anything remains from them. I’m thinking there were two originally and one of them took the bodies to feed their cubs or something.”

Oats was gone then. It was a pity, he was so fond of the small animal. He was considering taking her with him back home, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. There was no way they were going to allow him to do that in the first place. This was why Karl didn’t have pets in the first place. He sighed, “I can help you clean this up, if you’d like.”

“No, don’t worry about that.” Mr. Strange shuffled where he stood. “Go talk to him, he seems real shaken. I thought he’d outgrow freaking out so much at seeing animals die. Poor kid, he’s... gentle.”

Karl eyed him, not knowing really what to say. After the fallout with Stephen and his father, he should be on his boyfriend’s side to the end. Instead, he simply nodded and made his way to the house.

 

\---

 

Stephen had cleaned up quickly, apparently disinfecting himself twice, throwing out his stained and ruined shirt, and being forced to wash his hair. In the end, he decided to take a long bath instead. Karl wondered if he wanted to have it alone, a moment to think, but he was scared that the man’s head must have been in a bad place. So he found himself sitting on the toilet seat beside the bathtub, still fully clothed, watching quietly as the American washed himself with tired eyes.

It was only morning and it already felt like such a long day.

The water had been blood stained at first. While it had been just a little, it was still a unnerving sight to see. Stephen drained it out and filled the tub again. Water rushed in the background, the only sound filling the room as he sat with his knees against his chest. Not for decency, Stephen didn’t care about nudity, but for comfort.

Karl was the first to speak it. If he didn’t he was sure Stephen would spend the rest of the day in silence. “You scared me, for a moment. I have never seen you so shaken.”

A moment passed before Stephen answered. “It was my fault.”

“No, it was nature. Things like these happen in farms, Stephen. In Romania, we have foxes who do the same.” 

He shook his head, eyes hollow. “No, you don’t understand. I... I left their gate open.” 

Karl sat up and allowed Stephen to continue.

“I-I forgot to close it last night and it just went in and did as it please. I, um... I thought I could at least save the coyote and set it off somewhere far away but then you... Yeah.”

“It was going to bite you and give you rabies. It was the only thing I  _ could  _ do.”

“No! W-We could have called animal control or kept it caged and taken it to a vet or something! It don’t like violent shit, I hate guns. There are other ways, Karl.” His voice fell and he could hardly hear it over the rushing water. “There are other ways.”

Karl did nothing but think, to at least recollect his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to argue again. It was funny how their “honeymoon phase” had only lasted a few days before they were forced to confront reality, to confront each other. Now they were stuck in a bathroom, mourning the loss of goats and chickens with bloodstained hands.

This summer was as exhilarating as it was surreal.

“I did not pin you for someone who would feel so strongly about animals.” Karl leaned over to shut the faucet closed. “I know you take care of them but you always try to hide your love for them.”

Stephen looked away, wiping his eyes. “I just... like helping them live and hate seeing them die.”

“Most people don’t enjoy seeing anything die, Stephen. Give me a real answer.”

Unsurprisingly, Stephen avoided the answer, pretending he did not hear. “Aren’t you sad that Oats is dead?”

Karl crossed his arms and studied the other man. He sighed, “Of course I am, she was...the first pet I ever had, really. I even entertained the thought of taking her with me to Romania. It just seems silly now, my family would have taken her away immediately.” His lips curled upward in a hollow smile. “But there is nothing I can do about it, neither can you.”

“It’s my fault... she died.” He sounded close, so close, to breaking down and crying. It may have ultimately been Stephen’s fault, but the last thing the man needed was to be proven. He had no doubts that Mr. Strange would figure it out and scold him for his irresponsibility eventually. Karl should be there to help him.

“Stephen, you are hiding something and I know it. I can’t help if you’re not honest. Tell me why you were so shaken.” He placed a hand on the end of the porcelain tub. “Was it something... traumatic?”

“I guess, not really. Not as bad as you have it,” He gave a half-smile, Karl didn’t laugh.”I wish I had a cooler story to tell. Like, a gun to your head. That's cool, you gotta admit that. If I said my story at a bar it would just feel like a sob story. But you say you were kidnapped and got out, and next thing you know you--”

Karl raised an eyebrow and stopped him right there. He wasn’t going to let this drag on. “Stephen, you’re stalling.”

Just as he was starting to regain his usual mood and half-smirk, Stephen’s face fell again. He gave up and leaned his head back. “My dog died a few years ago.”

Oh, of course. It all made sense. Karl ran his fingers over Stephen’s wet hair -- it was one of the few moments where he could see the man’s face uncovered. He looked beautiful like this, his eyelashes were wet and his cheeks a bright pink. Under any other circumstances, Karl would have undressed himself and gone inside the bathtub along with him. It felt improper at the moment. “You had a dog?”

“Her name was Laika. Y’know, like the Russian dog that went into space? I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a little kid, so it fit.” Stephen seems lighter when he spoke of the dog. Happier, even -- Karl wondered what it must feel like. “She got some complications and needed to get surgery but we couldn’t afford it, not that year. It was an off year for our crops and we had to save any money we had and...”

Stephen’s voice trailed off, Karl simply waited for him to continue. “I thought I could do her surgery. I researched and researched and I thought that I could. I asked vets and farmers to let me do it, I offered my allowance and everything but they all said no. We had to put her down.”

“How old were you?”

“Just turned fifteen. Listen, I know I was too young to do surgery but I could have fixed it, I swear. I just  _ know _ I could’ve done something, at least given her another year or two. It wasn’t even that difficult!” 

Stephen was a genius, a medical marvel. He’d shown him his grades, Karl saw his entrance essays and assignments as Stephen boasted about them with pride, claiming that he could happily be moved to a more advanced class and was going to talk with his professors about it soon. Even so, Karl doubted that Stephen actually possessed that sort of knowledge at that age. The man could be so unrealistic. 

Stephen was still talking. “Dead coyotes just remind me of her. You know that killing them doesn’t do anything to control the danger they put on livestock, right? They maintain a balance and we’re just killing them all off. I keep telling dad but he wants to put up traps and--”

“Stephen,” Karl cut him off before he ranted any further. “Calm down. Breathe. There is no use in worrying about this anymore.” Reluctantly, the other man did as told and sunk into the water beneath him, only half of his head about the water, clearly fuming silently.

Usually, he was the one who would need Stephen’s words to make him less furious. It seemed that their roles were inverted this time.

“You know, Stephen, I have never known what it’s like to have a pet until Oats.” Karl leaned his arms on the side of the tub, resting his chin on them as he watched Stephen glance at him. “I admit that having a goat wasn’t the sort of pet I originally wanted, but it was nice.”

Stephen rose from the water to face him. “Let me guess, a cat?”

“I would be surprised if my parents even let me have a goldfish.” That made Stephen smile, just a bit. At least enough to know that it was working. 

They kiss softly, the sort of kiss that Karl enjoys the most. The kind that he could do for hours if he was allowed to, not caring if his body got sore for staying like this for so long, but Stephen parted sooner than expected and rested his hands on either side of Karl’s face, his hands went and slightly pruned from being in the water for so long. They were still so soft. “Sorry I made you so worried. Sorry that I didn’t want to talk about anything back in the car earlier.”

Karl closed his eyes. “We still need to discuss that, you know.”

Stephen sighed. “I know, it’s just hard to talk about, for both of us.”

He reached over to drain the water before he lost track of time and staying in the bathroom for another hour. Now that he thought about it, his back hurt after sitting for so long and would much rather be on a bed with Stephen beside him. Karl handed the towel over to Stephen, helping him dry off. The man didn’t bother putting on any clothes other than a part of pants, the ones he wore to sleep when he was forced to wear clothes in bad. Almost immediately, he returned his hair to it’s usual state, with one eye covered, the one that still had the faintest hints of bruising. Karl enjoyed the sight before him and pulled him into his room.

Stephen didn’t rest beside him. Instead, straddled his hips and loomed over him for a moment. Karl expected a kid, or movement of his hips that would send them into a sex-crazed frenzy for the rest of the day, but Stephen laid on top of him, his head on his chest, possibly listening to his heartbeat.

Karl smiled and wrapped his arms around the other man’s colder body. 

“You wanna do anything else today?” Stephen perched himself up on his elbows. “You know, to get our mind off things.”

“Maybe later, it’s still daytime. But I’m fine staying here. We could talk or sit in silence. You could tell me about your dog.” He ran his fingers through Karl’s hair. 

He fell quiet and rested his head back on Karl’s chest. “Some other time. Let’s just... chill here, then.”

“We can do something tomorrow then, we still have time.” 

Two weeks -- fourteen days, counting this one, and more than three-hundred hours. It would never feel like enough, but he promised himself he would spend every single moment with the other man, every single hour left until he had to leave and pretend to be someone he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure how he will ever go back to pretending and obeying without a second thought, but he has the luxury of not worrying about that right then and there. For now, he could breathe. He would rest. He could feel.

Stephen ended up curled up beside him, his body warmer, less sad. He wasn’t asleep, neither of them could, but they were content with simply holding each other for now. 

“Hey, Karl?”

He opened his eyes and faced him with a tired smile. “Yes?”

“I... I love you. We’re gonna find a way to get through this.” 

Karl did answer. He couldn’t say it, he just  _ couldn’t --  _ he wanted it to be special and memorable, when he truly felt love. Maybe he already did, at least the sort of people felt for their first love. Stephen threw away the words like they were made to prove a point. He would be annoyed and angry about him using them again if it weren’t so damn endearing.

He kissed Stephen’s cheek without a word and pulled him closer. Karl had time to say it properly, orchestrate a moment that was romantic and beautiful and the sort he would never forget.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! here's a really long chapter while you wait for the final two! chapter 14 is currently halfway written, i think i can post it in the next two weeks. just started college again so the wait for the final chapter will definitely be longer but i promise it'll be worth it.
> 
> i can't believe this is ending soon. ;;;u;;; lots of things happen in this chapter, im so nervous about it (tho, comments would alleviate the stress ;)
> 
> also, here we get to see teenage douchebag stephen in full power. enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS: **(SPOILERS)** homophobic slurs, references to child abuse

Karl Mordo was good at planning. He’d always been. Helping manage his father’s schedule, keeping his school work at bay by tediously planning every hour of his day back in boarding school, his planner filled to the brim with every calculated moment of his life. Even in America, Land of the free or whatever it liked to call itself, Karl couldn’t help but get anxious without a schedule to his day. Especially a day as important as this.

He’d taken the entire morning outlining, he spent hours thinking of things to do without Wong’s help or Stephen’s input, wondering what would be fun for both of them. It was a bit more lenient than his usual schedule, as he knew days with Stephen were unpredictable. The American slept beside him without realizing that Karl was awake, writing away on his phone.

He ended up organizing three separate lists, all written in his native tongue, and having to choose one. The result was this:

  1. Get up and make a nice breakfast for the two of us. 
  2. Prepare a light lunch for a picnic.
  3. Drive to our hill and eat, play music from the car and teach Stephen how to dance properly.
  4. Spend the entire day in private. Perhaps have sex. Wait till the night strikes and stargaze.
  5. Profess your love.



It seemed simple enough on paper. Obviously, that last one wouldn’t be a  _ ‘walk in the park _ ’, as Americans say, but he wanted to try. Even if he had to lie, Stephen had said it so many times and yet did not lose it’s meaning. He was taught that those three words were not to be thrown away so carelessly, and while he agreed, it would be nice to know what it’s like for Stephen. Hell, he’d heard Stephen say it to Wong -- in a more friendly way, of course -- but nevertheless, it made him jealous.

Karl woke at the same time Beverly did. She was always the first to wake up in the family, happily listening to the radio and preparing breakfast for her family whenever she could. He’d helped her before, growing fond of cooking and baking basic things, but this time he wanted to do it all by himself. Beverly couldn’t have looked more delighted and she helped Karl, standing by his side, making sure he didn’t burn anything.

He ended up with scrambled eggs that were too dry, bacon that was cooked just right (as per Mrs. Strange’s instructions), and pieces of toast with homemade jam that he couldn’t have possibly messed up, no matter how hard he tried. Beverly gave him a thumbs up once they heard Stephen go down the stairs, looking both groggy and in a light mood. 

Stephen ate the breakfast and rewarded him with a kiss, even if he complained that the eggs were too dry. 

He spoke as he changed, back in Stephen’s room. Karl was already dressed up, obviously. “So, what’s the plan for today? Hang out with Wong? The town? Going out to the city again?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He scoffed. “Hopefully it’s way better than any of my surprises.” Stephen got closer to Karl. He could see now that the bruise on his eye was practically completely gone, as were the ones on his ribs. He brushed his hair away so he could look at him properly. “Not even a hint?”

Karl shrugged. “All I can say is that there is food involved.”

“Shit. I’m already sold, then.”

Stephen wore his usual t-shirt, with rolled up sleeves so he could show off his arms more, and tight jeans, ripped at the knees. Karl wore his button up shirt, ironed to perfection, and a pair of jeans he had bought for himself. No holes, though, he could never understand why that fashion was so popular. It seemed impractical.

He had, however, taken a liking to hoodies. He liked wearing the hood over his face, it made people give him privacy and he looked mysterious and cool. His mother never allowed him to wear it up, telling him that it was improper. 

They quickly fed the animals that were left. It was a somber sight to not see Oats, or any of the other goats. But they managed to get over with it quickly, before thinking about it too much. This was supposed to be a happy, perfect day, the last thing he wanted to do was remind him of his past dead animals. 

Karl drove this time. He’d taken a liking to driving down the open road, not another car in sight for miles. He lived right in Bucharest, which was not as loud as New York City, but still loud and crowded in its own right. In another life, he’d like to live somewhere quiet. Somewhere with privacy. But Stephen adored the vibrant life of New York, the people and the night life were something he quickly told him he loved, even if he couldn’t appreciate it often as a medical student. The corn fields continued beside the road as they went on, with the occasional group of cows in a nearby farm. Stephen sat with his back against the chair, listening to his choice of music, something loud and fun that Karl couldn’t remember the name of.

He felt fingers press against his neck and flinched. “Stephen, don’t touch me while I’m driving.”

The American chuckled, “Okay,  _ dad. _ ” He leaned a bit closer. “Are those bruises or hickeys? Shit, will those stay there by the time you go to Romania?”

“Same thing. They’re red, they’ll leave in a few days.” Karl couldn’t help but smirk. Stephen really never noticed how many marks he left when they were in bed. They also may be leftover marks from when Wong choked him, he wasn’t sure.

“Look at you, all confident with your new sex knowledge. I kinda want to see you hide it with a turtleneck, I think that would look good on you.” 

“That’s basically the only sort of clothes I wear during winter.” He smiled. “I think you would look very good with one, too.”

Stephen looked down at his intentionally ripped, dark clothes. “Guess that will make me look more like a doctor, huh?”

“Relax, you’re still a college student. From the movies I have seen, that is normal student clothes.” 

“At least neurosurgeons make a bunch of money, so I could buy... suits and stuff.” 

“I can teach you to buy one, if you’d like. Something fitted and presentable. In return, I will wouldn’t be against buying more t-shirts. We can go... shopping.”

The boy next to him laughed, looking out the open window and speaking over the music. It’s a sight he’s seen so many times but it’s still a sight he’ll never get used to. “Shopping, huh? I’d like that. Maybe we can go to the mall next week, drive to Omaha and spend the day there.” 

Karl wanted to see what sort of stores Americans had in their malls, what sort of other fast foods he hadn’t heard of just yet. “Yes, that sounds like fun.”

The entire concept of being able to simply... decide what he wanted to do was still so foreign to him. It felt liberating, like a breath of fresh air. Karl beamed. The day was still new and it could go anyway, but he decided it was going to go well. He decided this day would be perfect.

They arrived at the hill not too long after. The roads were empty, save for the rare farmer’s truck passing by. Not that they were ever full, Karl had forgotten the feeling of the city already. It was strange how quickly he got used to this sort of life, it was quieter and cozy and charming. 

They set a blanket on the ground -- dewy, clean grass rubbing against their fingertips, the sun was shining among the clouds and Karl was sure it would stay that way for the rest of the day.

Stephen munched on some cookies his mother made before. He did the same, it made him feel like a kid again. At least, this is what he assumed normal kids felt most of the time. He never really had picnics with his family. 

Karl spoke up first, breaking the comfortable silence. “Did you, um... go to this hill with Laika a lot?”

“Yeah, she loved walks and running around in the grass. Y’know, Wong hates dogs, but he always like her.”

He hoped he didn’t bring back any bad memories because of his words, but Stephen was smiling. “Laika  _ loved  _ Donna, too. She would sleep on her bed sometimes and cuddle with her when she got bad migraines. She was as much her dog as she was mine.”

Seeing the man speak of his sister always made him smile, or feel proud. Now that he thought about it, Karl would have loved to have a sibling. Maybe it would have made things easier. 

Stephen continued. “I’m... I’m actually thinking of getting her a service dog soon. That can help her while we try to find a cure. I gotta wait until I start working in a hospital or in somewhere else to pay for the training.”

“Well, I think that very sweet of you.” Karl scooted closer to him as they both shared more snacks. “Thought, I can’t see you working anywhere that isn’t a farm or a hospital.”

“What if I work... at a coffee shop? Oh, a record shop!” 

He scoffed. “No, you prefer working in places where you can help people. I know you, Stephen Strange.”

The man didn’t deny it. New York City was full of people who needed help, he could do good there. “What about you,  _ Baron  _ Mordo? Where would you work during college?”

This time, Karl allowed himself to brag. “I don’t have to.” He popped a grape in his mouth and smirked while Stephen gave him a fake, exaggerated frown.

It earned a light-hearted shove to his arm. Karl only laughed in return. 

“Will you live with them when you start studying?”

It was Stephen’s turn to ask a hard question. Only now he couldn’t respond with a smile as he did. Karl eyed the grass beside them, bright green and dried up from the Summer sun, running his fingertips over the small leaves. “We haven’t discussed that. I just assumed I would.”

Stephen shrugged. “I can’t see you as a politician.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Karl shook his head, he didn’t want to talk about this. This was the last thing he wanted to remember right now. It was supposed to be a perfect day,  _ their _ perfect day. “These cookies are good, right?”

“Karl...”

It was the same tone he would use on Stephen when he was disappointed, or frustrated. He sighed, “Stephen, there are many things we need to discuss. I understand, but today is... special. Today is our day and I want it to be perfect.”

He took the man’s hands in his own, pale and smooth despite all the years of working on the farm. “Please, let’s talk about good things today. After what happened to the animals and with Nick... we deserve a good day, do we not?”

“Yeah... Yeah, I think we do.”

He felt like a hypocrite, stalling the matter any longer, but today was simply, well... one of those days. 

Karl wanted to focus on other things, like the way Stephen got a slight tan from staying under the Summer sun, the way sweat built under the fabric on his shirt, the way his lips felt on his skin. 

He didn’t want to forget it.

He slipped his hands underneath the man’s shirt and kissed him, feeling all his favorites parts of Stephen. Karl still refused to have sex out in the open like this, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy every else Stephen had.

The American wrapped his arms around his neck and broke their kiss, laughing. “I like this Karl.”

“Which one?”

“The one who isn’t afraid to get on top of me and, y’know, take charge.”

Karl shook his head. “Don’t get any ideas, we’re only kissing.”

“With your hands grabbing my ass? I think you want something more.”

He couldn’t deny that. “Hm, maybe when we go back home.” Before Stephen could answer, he nipped at the man’s neck, where he knew he was ticklish, causing Stephen to laugh and try to push him away, but not really trying that hard.

He loved his. He could drown in this.

They spent so long like this -- kissing, eating, talking about the most mundane topics they could think of. Stephen continued to ramble on about albums he loved and hated, recommending so many songs at a time that there was no way Karl could actually remember so many. In return, Karl spoke about home -- not his house, that wasn’t really his home, but of his country. About the food, and the parks, the stories he liked to read of Ottoman rulers and the time he had to dress like one as a child for a history class, large fur hat and all. 

“Do you like living there?” Stephen asked, the two of them laying on the blanket, hands intertwined. “Not with your family but in Romania in general.”

“Sometimes. It’s difficult to look like me and go anywhere out of the city without being called a gypsy or something worse. My family doesn’t like going to the countryside anyway, they do not mind, but... I do.” He shrugged. “It’s easier in Western European cities. Just a little bit.”

“I could see you living in one of those places.”

Karl pretended to hum in thought, considering the possibility, but truthfully he tried to ignore the words as quickly as they came. He wondered if Stephen noticed. If he did, he didn’t say anything about it and instead continued to stroke his finger over Karl’s hand. 

Karl learned that he liked having his hand held, his hair stroked, his thighs rubbed -- all of it, it felt reassuring. Stephen was a tactile person and Karl had never been used to being with someone like that, especially not in his family. 

He scooted closer to Stephen until he was resting his head on the man’s chest, hidden away from the cars driving on the nearby roads. It was just the two of them for miles, corn fields and plains surrounded the few hills almost protectively, leaving them uninterrupted from the world. It was so peaceful and quiet, and now Stephen was stroking his hair too. Karl looked up to kiss him, gently. He felt as if he moved too suddenly, this moment would shatter and bring them back into reality. 

He broke the kiss to speak, or whisper.  Karl’s throat felt tight and he could barely hear his voice over his heart pounding in his chest. “I’m so happy I met you.”

Stephen responded with a smile. “Same here.”

He didn’t want to break the schedule. He still had to teach Stephen to dance, he wanted to wait for the sun to set to say anything of importance. Every time Stephen smiled, or stared at him, or even did anything as simple as touch him, his strength would falter, and any semblance of a schedule or even the concept of time would leave him.

It was so blissful and perfect. 

Stephen was talking about something, probably trying to fill the silence with some other story of an album Karl didn’t know about. The man wasn’t fond of silent, awkward moments, and was always the one to interrupt them with a joke. Karl was about to speak up to stop him when he heard his phone ring in his back pocket.

It was his mother. Karl didn’t understand, he already spoke with her yesterday. 

He sat up and stared at it, knowing Stephen had done the same. His eyes were darting from the phone to the man beside him, not knowing what to do.

“I-I need to take this,” Karl finally said. If Stephen was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He gave him a nod before Karl walked away from the blanket they were sitting on for some privacy. A call this urgent and random was not one he wanted Stephen to hear, just in case it managed to ruin their day.

He let out a heavy sigh before answering. “ _ Alo, mamă. _ ”

She didn’t answer, not immediately. There was a very long pause, the sort that made his head hurt and his heart beat fast. No, he couldn’t panic so quickly. “ _ Mamă? _ ”

She spoke in their native tongue, her words slow and calculated. “ _ Hello, Karl. How are you? _ ”

An odd question, one he wasn’t used to her making. He answered in Romanian just in case Stephen overheard. “Good. Um -- I am out with the family’s son right now. How are you?”

The pause returned. If his mother were here, he would know what has caused it. Was it anger, was it sadness? Worry or happiness, even -- though Karl wasn’t sure if she knew of the later two. 

“Karl, you grandfather is dead.”

The world came to a halt.

Now it was his turn to be at loss for words. He felt nothing, not thankfulness or sadness for the deceased man, and that’s what terrified him. He forgot this was even a possibility. Krowler always seemed so powerful and undefeated. No one could stop him -- he supposed he assumed that God wouldn’t stop him either.

“Karl? Are you there? Answer me.” Her voice sounded tired and angry, never good combination. 

He felt as if his entire body was shaking. He had no idea how to react.“Yes. Y-Yes, I’m here. What happened to him?”

He heard a hollow chuckle through the line, the sort that gave him goosebumps. The sort she inherited from  _ him _ . “The doctors aren’t entirely sure just yet, but they believe it was a heart attack. Oh, Karl, can you believe it? What a pitiful way to die, he would have been furious had he had the time to think.”

Karl feigned grief in his voice. “Oh... That’s terrible. I’m sorry,  _ mamă _ .”

“I’ll be fine.” She hummed in thought for a moment. “Your father is shaken up and so is the staff. My secretary just sent out a statement to the press. He’s so stupid and slow, I should fire him soon.”

“When... when is the funeral?’

“This Sunday. We just returned home this morning the instant we heard the news. Our time in hiding is over, son.”

Karl gulped. “What do you mean?”

“We’re traveling back to Bucharest in the morning. It means you don’t have to hide anymore and you can leave that terrible, terrible place and come back to reality.”

No. No this couldn’t be. “ _ Mamă-- _ ”

“I already sent you the details. Your plane leaves on Friday night. Be ready by then.”

Karl felt the same panic that had risen earlier boil in his heart, making him sweat and tremble, making his voice shake. “You can’t do this. You knew I was happy here. You can’t.”

He couldn’t not read her voice. He didn’t even bother to do so. ‘Do  _ not _ talk back to me like that, do you understand? You do  _ not _ tell me what to do. This is your grandfather’s funeral, you ungrateful brat. Do you know the  _ embarrassment _ it will bring us if you are missing and everyone finds out that you’ve been doing nothing in the United States?! You are coming here on Friday, your father already sent an email.”

Karl fell silent, back into the obedient son, hand still shaking as it hold his phone against his ear. “...Yes,  _ mamă. _ ” He swallowed.  “May I speak to father?”

“No. We have many things to prepare and you have to pack. I will talk to you soon.”

She hung up just like that and Karl stayed still, his hand kept holding the phone against his ear, for a very, very long time.

under any other other circumstances, his death would have had Karl elated, relieved. He was finally free from every beating and touch and terrible thing the man had done to him for the rest of his days. Deep down, Karl knew he would outlive the man eventually, he just didn’t expect it to be so sudden. And at the worst possible time. Even in death, the man mocks and punishes him. It wasn’t fair.

In the distance he heard a voice call out to him. Karl stayed in place, still frozen in shock, looking out to it.

“Hey, Karl! Everything all right?” Stephen yelled out as he waved his arms. “Come on, I wanna cuddle some more!”

He walked over, slowly, trying to make the space between him and Stephen last for as long as possible. He wondered how his face looked -- did he look furious? Or just sad? Karl couldn’t even register his emotions at the moment. They were the same as when we first spoke at Stephen, it was all confusing and terrifying and dreadful all at o once. 

When he arrived, Stephen’s face changed from a smile to an immediate look of worry. “Karl, is everything okay?”

He had two options: either he could lie and spend the rest of the day in peace, or he could tell the truth and face whatever terrible reaction awaited him. Karl cleared his throat and hid his face -- neither of them were good options, both would lead to the inevitable and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Stephen kept staring at him with so much worry, as if he could do anything to change this.

“No, I--” Karl clenched his jaw, trying his hardest not to break down now. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The other man was panicked now. “Karl, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to but she forced me and I can’t say now.”

“Karl, what the  _ fuck _ is going on?”

Somehow, his body refused to cry, and instead it felt hollow. “I need to go back to Romania this weekend.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “My grandfather died and my family wants me to attend the funeral.”

Karl wasn’t looking at Stephen, he had no idea what emotions ran through his mind, what his face looked like. What if he mad? Or worse, if he was relieved.

“Wait, wait -- can’t they hold the funeral back? Are you sure? What the fuck?”

“I’m sure. My mother refused to listen to any argument and--”

“Well you should have spoken louder!” Stephen was yelling now, clearly angry. Still, Karl didn’t want to look, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “Are you kidding me?! Karl, we had a week left!”

“I know. I-I’m sorry, I--”

“And you just let her walk over you and forced you to come back home? Did you even put up a fight?!” 

Stephen was a bit too close for comfort, blaming him with more scathing words. It was such a contrast to the man he had been cuddling with just minutes before. “Why the hell did you not say no?!”

Karl snapped, pushing the man away. “Do you think I  _ want  _ this?!”

Stephen scoffed. “Why do you even want to go to your grandfather’s funeral? You hate him! He’s an asshole!”

“He is family and I have an obligation to them to follow them even if we don’t get along. They are my  _ blood _ , Stephen. You don’t understand how hard it is for me.”

“Bullshit.” Stephen kicked the blanket to the side, still furious yet showing a wicked smile that Karl was starting to hate. “He beat you, Karl. He fucking hated you -- your grandfather would have killed you if he found out about us, you said it yourself! And now you’re gonna kiss his ass even after he’s dead? The guy who kicked your ass every week? Do you have any fucking balls?!”

It was a tone of voice he knew so well, the sort of tone that made his heart race and his temple sweat. He thought he wouldn’t have to face this feeling in America, that he wouldn’t see this sort of behavior from Stephen. It wouldn’t cover him in bruises, but it still hurt. Somehow it hurt more than bruises. 

He clenched his fists. “Shut up. Stop it. Stop  _ yelling _ . Don’t say things like that.”

Stephen scoffed again, the same hollow smile on his face. “Or what, you’ll hit me? Just like you beat up Nick?”

Karl’s hands felt limp to his side, eyes wide in shock and looking down again. How could he say something like that? The very idea that Stephen even remotely thought about that possibility made no sense. Karl would never... he would never do something like that. Did Stephen believe that?

He shook his head in disbelief, eyes red and watering. “Stephen...”

"W-We had another week. Seven fucking  _ days _ , Karl."   


It hurt not to be angry at this moment. Being angry and yelling back at Stephen was easier, it distracted him from the pain. "Y-You don't understand, I have to do this. This is my family."   
  
"You were always the one complaining about time.” Stephen kicked at the ground. “Crying your fucking eyes out about all the time we didn't have and now you're the one leaving!"   
  
"Stephen, don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

The American wasn’t looking at him anymore, he was picking up his things with a stern look on his face that made him look exactly like his father.

Karl whimpered. “Stephen, please. I  _ love _ you.”

For a moment, just a brief moment, Stephen stopped to look back at him. He could see a flash of dread on the man’s face, of betrayal, before it curled back into a glare. “Really?  _ Now _ you choose to say it? As if that’s going to make it any better.”

“Stephen, I love you. Please, don’t do this.”    
  
He stepped closer once more. "You never gave a shit about us, I was just a summer fuck, wasn't I?"   
  
"Stephen, please. This isn’t about you!”

He laughed at him. Karl has no idea how he could at a time like this. “This affects me too, dick. Because of you, I had to come out to my parents. I got beat up and fucked over because of dating  _ you _ .” The last word was emphasised by a finger pressing to his shoulder with every syllable. “And you’re just going to leave it all behind and lie that it never fucking happened, huh? Well, fuck you, Karl. You fucking fag.”

Karl snarled, grabbing Stephen by the collar of his shirt. “Stop talking right now, Stephen.”

“You heard me. I should’ve stayed with Christine. I should’ve fucked Wong behind your back -- you weren’t worth all this bullshit.”

When he shoved Stephen, he didn’t expect it to be hard enough to push him to the ground. He looked down at the man on the grass as he got up again, wiping the leaves from his clothes. Karl glared at him. Part of him wanted to give him another black eye. 

“Wong had warned me you could be cruel but I did not believe him. I see the truth now.”

He heard the other man mumble, the same word that was cruel and that he did not expect from a man he was in love with. It was a word he’d heard so many times before, from his classmates and his family -- he never thought his boyfriend would be that cruel. Stephen fixed his hair and walked past him, hitting him with his shoulder as he passed by. “Whatever, have fun in Romania.”

Karl didn’t notice that Stephen was walking to his car that was parked at the end of the hill. He left behind everything they had brought, including Karl, and drove off without him. He was an hours walk from the Strange’s house, but he did not bother walking away. He felt like he was frozen in place and if he even dared to take a step then he would know this wasn’t a terrible nightmare.

Stephen drove off so fast, as if he had jammed his food against the gas. Karl stared at the car as he drove away, yet no part of him felt like he should call someone to help him. He just felt... numb. Drained of all emotions and just hollow. If there was nothing he could think about that wouldn’t make him miserable, then he would think of nothing at all.

If he were to die here, then so be it. 

Obviously, nothing happened to him. He was being dramatic and miserable, exactly like the person he was at the beginning of Summer. Karl sat on the grass for a long time, watching the sun eventually set, almost completely engulfed by the horizon, and his phone try to stay awake with its last bit of battery. Karl listens to the music he was supposed to practice this entire time and not the music that Stephen had shown him. He really didn’t need to remember him right now.

Despite it all, he can’t bring himself to regret falling for Stephen. He can’t regret a single second of it, even if it’s doomed to end like this.

Because of Stephen, he learned to be someone he did not know he could be. He discovered so many things about himself and others, about what life  _ could _ feel like if he were free. The Stephen he saw today was not the Stephen he fell in love with. 

Karl sat with his knees against his chest -- he felt like a child all over again. He was scared, alone and on the verge of tears. And far, far too angry.

At a distance, he heard the sound of a car driving by the road below him. A part of him thought it was Stephen, just for a moment, but he saw another familiar face walk out the car door instead.

Mrs. Strange walked up the hill to meet him, huffing along the way with a small smile that she always seemed to wear. Her clothes was stained and covered in flour. Karl stood up to meet her halfway, speechless.

“Oh boy, I’m getting too old to be talking up hills like this.” She panted. “I came rushing here the instant I realized you didn’t come home with Stephen. You alright?”

Karl wanted to say something, even a lie, but nothing escaped his lips. He shook his head. 

“Yeah, didn’t expect you to be. Here, I brought you some water.”

Karl gave her a small ‘ _ thank you’ _ before drinking from the bottle, not realizing how thirsty he has been this entire time.

She rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment before pulling him into a hug. It was so different from Stephen’s hugs -- his were jagged because of his frame and a bit too tight or not tight enough -- Mrs. Strange knew how to give proper hugs. She was kind and soft and always warm, resting her hand against his hair and another against his back, soothing him. Karl didn’t realize he was crying until he heard her quiet ‘ _ shhh _ ’. If this was what it was like to be hugged by a mother then he wished he could’ve had one at least once before so it wouldn’t feel so shocking and different.

“Did you guys have a fight?” She asked, voice in a whisper.

Karl couldn’t help but let out a choked sob and nod against her. 

“If you don’t want to get into specifics, I understand.”

“He wasn’t h-happy that I had to leave early. I have to go back o-on Friday because my grandfather died.” Karl wiped his face with his hands but the tears continued to fall

“Oh Karl, I am so sorry. I didn’t raise him to be like this. Boys can be so stupid and cruel. I can’t believe he would just leave you here in the middle of a hill!” She shook her head gently pulled apart from the hug. “Come on, let’s go back to the car and we’ll talk about it.”

He followed her down until they were back in her truck, driving down the empty road. She had to break the silence again as Karl was looking out the window. 

“You know, Stephen just isn’t used to not getting what he wants.” She began. “I don’t think we spoiled him but... he’s just good with words and convincing people. He’s charming, he knows how to get what he wants. I’m not saying this is good, thankfully he doesn’t do it to do wrong, far as I know, but when people tell him no he just... he doesn’t really understand.”

Karl didn’t answer but he stopped facing the window and instead faced Beverly.

“He’ll come around, I know he will.” Beverly shook her head. “Lord knows I gave him a talking to when I realized what he did. He just locked himself in his room and blasted some of his rock music real loud. Let him have his tantrum for now. This isn’t the first one I’ve seen from him.”

Karl wondered how many times she’d seen or heard Stephen use such terrible words to someone he was dating. He wondered if she knew about what he did to Nick. 

She tried saying something else, something Karl didn’t quite hear, but dropped it eventually at his silence. Karl wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone for what seemed like a very long time. 

He continued to look out the window, leaning his forehead on the glass as the plains of Nebraska passed them by. The sight of corn made him sick now.

Stephen always told him he was too dramatic.

They arrived at the farm shortly after. The day seemed so nice, quiet -- it could have been a perfect day. 

Beverly offered him a cup of tea and to listen to anything he wanted to let out, but Karl silently declined. He made him way upstairs to his room. Through Stephen’s door, he could hear the fainter sound of music -- his father must have told him to turn it down. 

Karl closed his door behind him as he entered his room and started packing. From his clothes, to the books and records he bought, along his laptop and textbooks. He didn’t study at all, not that he could bring himself to care, but maybe he could just speed read through the textbooks on his flight back home. He wished he could play his records one last time before packing them, but he doubted that Stephen would allow him to use his record player again.

Karl sighed and stuffed then into his case, he didn’t want to look at them anymore. 

At the sight of his cleaned up room, now mostly empty save for the folded clothes on the corner he would wear at the airport, Karl already missed it, even if he wasn’t leaving for another 48 hours. He liked the coziness of the small room -- how the smell of baked goods always managed to find it’s way into his room, and the muffled sound of Donna’s television or Stephen’s music could be heard through the walls.

Karl sat on his mattress with his head on his hands, wondering what he could do to pass the time. 

“Can I come in?”

Karl glanced up and saw Stephen peeking through with the door half-open. He couldn’t help but scoff, “You’re already practically inside.”

He expected a rude comment from the other man, he was basically asking for it, but he was only met with silence. Stephen stood near the now closed door, awkwardly shuffling his feet. It was painfully obvious he wanted to say something.

Karl tried again, “What do you want?”

Stephen frowned. “Can’t a guy talk to his boyfriend?”

It tensed the air immediately. They both looked down, calculating their next words carefully. 

“ _ Sorry _ \--” “Sorry.” 

Christ, they were bad at this. Karl wasn’t used to apologizing because his apologies weren’t even given the chance to be heard. Stephen was so used to getting his way, he wasn’t used to this sort of failure and fuck up. No wonder they were so attracted to each other.

“Stephen,” Karl broke the newfound silence. “What you said to me in the hill was... terrible.”

Stephen sighed, “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, this isn’t fixed by a simple apology.”  He’d decided this in the car back with Beverly -- no matter how much Stephen apologized and no matter how much Karl forgived him, he could never forget his words. He could never forget this. 

“I know that I just --” Stephen bit his lip. “I don’t get why you’re going. It’s not like they can hurt you while you’re thousands of miles away “

Karl broke any eye-contact he was making with Stephen. “I prefer to travel now and miss you than defy them and wait a week for an eventual beating. I told you... you don’t know what it’s like.”

“I--”

“Have you ever lived in fear of your family? Kicked by the very person you were taught to trust? You’re lucky, Stephen. You’re blessed. If I hadn’t met your mother, I would have never known what mums in real life are supposed to act like.” Karl shook his head. “I don’t  _ want _ to go back. You keep thinking that this is my decision to make but it isn’t, I have no choice. I’m happy here, I don’t want to see them again. I wan’t --”

No, he wasn’t going to let himself cry again. Karl held his head in his hands again, letting the words unfinished and unsaid.

He hoped the man didn’t argue with him about this. 

Stephen didn’t move from the door, probably watching him in silence, unsure whether or not he should go or do something about Karl’s harsh breaths. 

From the other side of the room, Karl heard a hollow laugh. “I’m such a dick. I’m an asshole.”

He glanced at Stephen and watched him speak. 

“I don’t even know why I got so mad so quickly and I should’ve never called you a fag. I said terrible fucking things and you have all the right in the world not to forgive me--”

Karl shook his head. “I do want to forgive you, But why would you say something like that?"

Stephen tensed. "I don't know. I panicked 'cause you were leaving. It's not an excuse but... yeah."

"Did you really think about sleeping with Wong behind my back?"

"No. No I swear." Stephen took a step closer, his voice sounded sincere. "I don't know what I said that. You know I would never do that."

"I'm not sure anymore."

"Please, Karl. You have to believe me. I'm not that guy I used to be to Nic anymore, I swear."

Karl paused, not looking at his boyfriend."I want to believe you."

Despite his words, Stephen stayed in disbelief. “Why? I’m... not good enough for you. I fuck everything up and I drag you into my problems.”

“I think we’re both guilty of that.” The Romanian admitted. "But you have to stop making things about you."

“I'm not, I'm just -- I’m sorry I left you on the hill that was a dick move. I’m just... I don’t know what got in me. Please, Karl, I’m really sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m still a bully.”

Karl didn’t understand what Stephen was still so far away from him. Even if the room was small, he felt out of reach. “Stephen... I don’t.”

It hurt lying to him, it really did. Deep down, Karl knew that Stephen still was capable of being so cruel and selfish. They had that in common. 

He could still see the paler man across the room with his head hung, looking down as his feet shuffled nervously against the wooden floor. 

Karl extended his arms. “Come here. Come to bed with me.” 

Stephen almost ran, almost made the bed move with the impact of his weight throwing itself at the mattress, at Karl, and kissing him until they were breathless. His arms were being pinned down by Stephen -- he liked the sensation, it was very knew. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” Stephen mumbled between kisses. Karl couldn’t help but smile. He would often do that, when apologizing or simply flirting with him -- Stephen would shower his face with kisses until Karl smiled, and it worked for some reason -- he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy it. “Will you forgive me?”

Karl looked down. “Of course. I don’t have the time not to.”

He pushed him until they were laying on their sides, facing each other and still impossibly close. 

“If we did have time, how long would you be mad at me?” Stephen propped his head up and rested it on his palm. 

“A week at the least.” They were both joking, but if Karl had the time to be mad, he didn’t think he would ever put it past them. He’d been raised to never forgive or forget, it seemed that Stephen was once again the exception to all his rules. He felt a kiss at the top of his head, Karl gripped the man’s shirt. “Was that really how... you treated Nic?”

Stephen sounded exactly like someone who didn’t want to talk about this, but Karl wasn’t letting this go anytime soon. “I probably said worse things to him.”

“Why? Why did you make him your enemy?”

“I don’t know...” The American wiped his eyes, looking tired. “He was annoying and kept copying me and wanted to be friends with me so I just... acted like a dick to him and went to far. I was a bully, alright? I was a bad person to him and even Wong told me but I didn’t realize until he beat me up and started being a bully himself.” 

In order to break Karl’s silence, Stephen continued. “I was an asshole like every other teenage boy. But I'm a good guy, you know I am."

"I do."

He wanted to badly to believe that Stephen was good and that he would never speak to him that way again. Part of him did, part of him didn’t -- both parts were equally worrying but he didn’t care nor could he afford to care. He will never find a man like this in Romania -- he wouldn’t even know where to start or where to go or how to even start a conversation that felt like flirting -- Stephen was his only hope in finding love, deep down Karl knew that to be true.

He already felt so unlovable most of the time. He didn’t want to be reminded of that feeling by being completely alone again.

Karl gripped the fabric of Stephen’s shirt more tightly.

“Stephen, tomorrow I want... I want you inside me.”

He could almost hear Stephen’s shock. The man gulped, voice strained. Karl could hear his rapid heartbeat. “Really? You sure? For real?”

“Yes. It will be our last night together and it will be special. Please. I want you.” He could feel that he was blushing. “I want you to be the first.”

Stephen smirked. “Maybe I should yell at you more often if that’s what I get at the end.”

Karl rolled his eyes so hard they almost went to the back of his skull. “I can change my mind, you know?”

“Joking. Joking.” He pulled Karl in for a hug, probably not to see him roll his eyes again. “Why not tonight, thought?”

“Today has been exhausting but I... don’t want to sleep either. I don’t want to waste the few hours we have together.”

His voice started to crack, as if he was going to start crying again. He was too tired for crying at this point. Stephen stroked his hair. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. It’s the least I can do. Then, tomorrow, we can spend the entire day cooped up in my room, just the two of us. How does that sound?”

Karl didn’t show Stephen his face when he spoke. He simply smiled into the fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, taking in the scent and the softness of the worn out t-shirt as much as he could, so he’d never forget it. 

“I like that.” 

Just as he felt himself on the brink of falling asleep, Stephen spoke in a soft, quiet voice. “I’m sorry, Karl. I love you.”

Karl spoke back, voice just as soft, reaching for Stephen’s hand. “I love you too.”

Neither of them were able to fall asleep right after that exchange.

 

\---

 

They tried to continue with the next day as if nothing had changed. 

Stephen woke up early to feed the remaining animals while Karl diligently made breakfast just for the two of them. He liked to pretend that they were the only two people living in the house at moments like these, since both Mr. and Mrs. Strange were out and about and Donna was cooped up in her room as per usual. With the stillness of the house and the quietness that surrounded him, Karl looked outside and saw Stephen sitting at the porch, looking out at the field and drinking a beer far too early in the morning.

He called him in for their breakfast, which this time wasn’t as burnt and dry as his usual scrambled eggs were. They ate a bit too quickly. Karl didn’t blame Stephen, they kept exchanging looks at each other, reminding themselves that today was  _ the day _ . 

Today had to be special and it was guaranteed to feature sex at one point or another, it was natural that Karl felt a bit more flustered than usual, and sweatier. And more nervous. 

They ended up moving to the couch. It was disgusting, Karl hadn’t even showered or brushed his teeth, but he felt so anxious and desperate that he was tempted to ask Stephen to just take him then and there. For god know how long, he found himself sitting on Stephen’s lap while the other man rubbed at his thigh and kissed him deeply, almost making him moan. At the start of the summer, just the act of kissing like this alone would have made Karl into a sweaty, horny mess, but now it felt so casual and natural. It came to him as easy as breathing. 

Stephen’s lips found their way to his neck, one of the more sensitive parts of Karl’s body. He was sure it was covered in hickeys by now, the kind that Stephen was no longer trying to hide. It was going to be a pain to try to keep them hidden from his family once he returned but --  _ Christ _ \-- it felt so good. 

“You excited for our plans later?” Stephen teased, feeling his half-hard erection with the palm of his hand.

“Yes,” His voice was breathless. “You told me once, in the shower, that I was going to --  _ oh  _ \-- love the feeling of your cock inside of me. I can’t wait.”

Stephen wasn’t hard yet, but he knew the man was going to melt at those words. And he did, enough to make Stephen pull him closer and kiss him again. “Oh fuck, babe...” 

Of course, like every other romantic and perfect moment they had, it was immediately ruined by the sound of a distant door opening. 

Karl and Stephen stopped dead in their tracks and scrambled to separate themselves until they were sitting on either side of the sofa. Karl crossed his legs tightly and pretended to scratch his neck while Stephen turned on the television to the first channel he could find.

“You told me they were going to be out all day.” Karl whispered, panicking.

“I thought they were!” 

Mister Strange stood beside the couch, arms crossed and looking slightly annoyed, as always. “Since when do you watch the news, Stephen?”

It was sports news. Karl glanced at his boyfriend, who appeared as nonchalant as ever, even if Karl knew his heart was beating quickly against his chest. “Just catching up with the baseball games I missed.”

Mister Strange narrowed his eyes. “Uh-huh.” He didn’t believe them, and Karl could only pretend to scratch his neck for so long before the man started thinking he had some sort of rash. He resorted to slumping in his chair a bit, even if the posture embarrassed him.

“Stevie, I need you to clean up the stables.” Mr. Strange with a stern voice. 

Stephen tensed up. That would take hours, even with help. “But... they haven’t been getting dirty since the coyote... y’know.”

“Exactly, we need to clean it before we get some new livestock. You know the drill, this isn’t the first time we lose an animal or two like this.” He gave Stephen a pat on his shoulder. “Go and do it now and finish before sundown.”

They would have to wait to have sex for longer than Karl expected. And even once they did, they would have to do it with the fear of Mr. and Mrs. Strange hearing them. Stephen seemed to be thinking the same thing. “B-But, Karl and I were going to--”

Eugene Strange narrowed his eyes. “Going to what?”

Stephen gulped. “Nothing, we can do it later. I’ll, uh, go and get my boots and change.”

Karl spoke up. “I'll help you, Stephen.”

Eugene spoke up before Stephen could agree. “No, you stay inside. I need to talk to him in private, anyway. Watch some TV or help Bev in the kitchen or something, instead.”

It couldn’t have been more transparent even if Mr. Strange would have simply told him to  _ fuck off _ . He clearly didn’t like the “influence” he had on his son, Karl was sure the man was blaming him for Stephen’s “newfound” interest in men. At least he was mostly quiet about it, and pretended to oblige in basic pleasantries now. Karl leaned back into his seat and gave him a quiet nod, glancing back as Stephen as he was lead out the door by his father. 

Karl turned off the television right after and grimaced. As kind as Beverly was, he wasn’t interested in spending time with anyone who wasn’t Stephen. 

He might as well just wait upstairs and prepare for later. Karl showered, cleaning himself as thoroughly as possible, and changed into something that was easily removable -- a pair of boxers and a t-shirt lent to him by Stephen. It would be perfect, if Stephen were here, and two hours had passed yet he could still see the man hard at work out the window.

Stephen didn’t finish until another hour later. He came up the stairs, his clothes wet and sweaty and smelling of animal feces. He looked disgusting, if not a bit rugged and manly, but just smelly enough to make Karl demand he cleaned himself immediately. Stephen didn’t put up a fight, he felt gross.

“That’s the farm life, baby.” He said with a smirk before closing the bathroom door on Karl’s frowning face. 

Finally --  _ finally _ \-- they were back where they should have been, curled up together on Stephen’s mattress while music played in the background, lips moving against one another. Neither of them were going any further than a kiss, though, and the tension and nervousness could be felt in the air. Stephen was the only one who had tried to make a move and had helped Karl take off his shirt, but they were still so anxious.

Maybe they weren’t ready for this.

Karl parted from the kiss and bit his lip, “Stephen, do you have the, um... supplies?”

“I got the condom and the lubricant. Trust me, I made sure it was in my drawer right before this.” He blushed. “You want me to... get it?”

Karl nodded. “Y-Yes.”

Even if Stephen hadn’t spoken back, he knew the man would have stuttered on his words too. 

He placed the condom and tube of lubricant nearby and kissed Karl again as he took off the remainder of his boyfriend’s clothes, leaving him completely bare while Stephen was still wearing some clothes. Karl held his face and pulled him away, his chest pressing against the fabric of Stephen’s tshirt. He smelled so nice and clean, he probably bathed as best as possible too.

“You’re so nervous. Relax, Karl, it’ll feel so good.” Stephen said nervously. The man couldn’t hide the fact that his own hands were almost shaking. He was usually so confident and smooth, Karl didn’t like seeing him like this.

“Of course I am. You are too.” Karl stroked his cheek. “It’s our first time having...  _ real  _ sex.”

“None of the other times were fake, just different.” Stephen shifted his hips, Karl’s erection was pressing against his thigh. “And we... did our research. It’ll all go well.”

By research, of course, Stephen meant the fact that Karl had urged him to look up any information about penetrative sex after they had that talk in Wong’s bathroom. Karl had read as many articles as he could, all saying tips and tricks on how to make it painless and pleasurable. Stephen’s research, on the other hand, probably only consisted of reading the articles Karl sent him and watching gay porn. Well, it wasn’t like Karl didn’t indulge himself in the same activity.

“Your parents are still downstairs.” He couldn’t help but be paranoid. They had even double checked the door lock and placed a chair in front of it, just in case. “We have to be quiet. And careful...”

Stephen smirked. “You should be the one to talk. You’re real loud when we fuck and you know it.”

“So are you.” Karl shook his head as he laughed. “Oh god, we are screwed.”

They stayed still for a moment, wondering what to do next. Usually, Stephen would know exactly what moves to pull, what things to say, but the finality of it all... the pressure to make this moment perfect was getting to him. 

Karl cupped his face in his hands. “I read that the easiest position for a first time would be for me to, um, get on all fours.” 

Stephen licked his lips. “You always look good on your knees like that.”

_ Oh, god _ . “I think I would actually prefer to... t-to--”

His boyfriend seemed worried now. “You alright? You don’t usually stutter.”

“I want to try.... riding you. It would make less noise, maybe. And I think it’s... hot.”

He could almost see sparks was Stephen’s brain seemed to short circuit right in front of him. Stephen kissed him again and immediately pushed down his boxers until they were below his balls, holding his now hard cock in front of Karl. “Get on my lap.”

“You have to prepare me first.” Karl reminded him. Stephen groaned.

“Can’t I just watch while you do it for yourself?” He whined.

Karl looked down, embarrassed. It was a joke, obviously, but it was starting to make him feel self-conscious. Was he demanding too much? Stephen pulled back his boxers, his cock was still hard but it was simply covered from view by the fabric.

“Sorry, sorry. You know I like fingering you, baby.” Stephen smirked. He got a kiss on his neck from Karl in gratitude. 

He settled next to the American, his back against the mattress, and spread his legs. Stephen turned his body to the side, facing him, his fingers now coated with lubricant that was a bit too cold to the touch, pressing to his entrance. “Stephen...”

“You sure you still want this?”

Karl nodded wordlessly, his eyes were too busy staring down at the large, long fingers settled between his legs. Stephen pushed in one, making him let out a gasp instead of any loud noise. He usually wouldn’t pay that much attention to his voice, and it wasn’t until now that he realized how much he depended on Donna’s loud movies or on Stephen blasting out music through his speakers, but they had been so desperate to touch each other that they had not taken any of those things into account. 

Karl bit his lip as Stephen scissored him open now. It wasn’t exactly pleasurable, not unless he was stroking his cock or managed to find his prostate, but the intimacy of his touch was what really turned him on. No one else had touched Karl like this, there was a chance that no one else ever will. 

There were three fingers inside him now. His back was almost pressed against Stephen’s chest, desperate for more contact, and his legs were spread wide open, his cock bobbing with every buck of his hips. Stephen’s other arm had curled under his neck, his hand close to Karl’s face just in case he needed to quickly muffle out any sounds the Romanian made. 

The feeling of being stretched out by someone’s fingers was... indescribable. Karl wasn’t so much as high as he was drunk on the feeling. Kark turned his head to the side to face Stephen, who looked just as delirious with arousal as himself. “Kiss me...”

He expected Stephen to say something cheesy or to tease him, but Karl received a kiss immediately, open mouthed and desperate. He could feel Stephen’s heartbeat, it felt as if it was about to jump from his chest, not much different from his own.

Stephen parted away, a thin string of saliva between their lips -- it was a bit awkward, just like their first kiss in the car. “I think you’re, um... ready.” He said, yet he still hadn’t stopped fingering him. Stephen probably hadn’t noticed.

Karl spoke with a raspy voice, already shaking from anticipation. “Let me get on your lap.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Stephen moved to sit up with his back against the wall, desperately trying to take off his clothes as fast as possible while Karl straddled his thighs, waiting for him to finish. His body was looming over Stephen’s as he was on his knees, felt a kiss to his hipbone and his navel, before hands gripped his hips and steadied him down. If Karl arched back, he could feel Stephen's hard cock pressing against his backside.

Stephen was lost in thought again, as his hands were too busy groping at his ass in order to remember what they were actually supposed to be doing. Not that Karl minded entirely, it gave him time to calm his nerves and breathe. 

“I wanna hear you say that every day?”

Karl groaned. “Say what?”

“That you want to get on my lap. You look real good on it.” Stephen voice was breathless. “I want to make you feel so good, Karl. So good you’ll never forget it.”

He appreciated the sentiment and reached his hand to stroke Stephen’s cheek. “Well, I’m the one doing the work this time, remember?”

“I bet you’ll last only a few minutes before you get tired and beg for me to fuck you.”

He forgot how cocky the man could be. “We’ll see.” Karl said, pushing back further against Stephen’s cock. “Put on your condom.”

Stephen groaned. “You’ve already sucked my cock a dozen of times, it doesn’t matter.”

“ _ Stephen... _ ” He warned. The man quickly gave up and did as told, rolling the condom over his cock. 

“I wanted to cum inside you.” He heard an annoyed whine from Stephen.

“Maybe some other time.” 

Finally,  _ finally,  _ Stephen coated more lubricant onto Karl’s hole -- a lot more lubricant, actually, it was making some obscene noises and dripping to his thighs -- and dripped some over his cock. Karl raised an eyebrow, “I think that’s too much.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.” Stephen explained, face red.

Karl couldn’t help but laugh. “It  _ is _ too much. I won’t be able to feel anything.”

Maybe it was his laugh or Stephen’s embarrassment, but he ended up cleaning the excess lubricant on Karl’s thighs and his cock with his blanket. “Sorry, not used to it.” Karl could practically feel the shame in Stephen’s voice -- he definitely hadn’t been used to being this inexperience in a long time.

Karl comforted him with a kiss. “Neither am I.” 

He took a deep breath and settled himself until he was right above Stephen’s cock, the man’s hands holding his hips with his large hands tightly enough to leave marks. Karl settled his own hands on Stephen’s chest to steady himself, thighs trembling with anticipation, anxiety, and arousal all at once.

He lowered himself slowly as he locked eyes with Stephen just for a moment before they were tightened shut, trying to focus on the task at hand. The head of Stephen’s cock was now pressing against his entrance, going inside slowly and with minimal pain, until all of the head was inside him, and Karl needed a moment to breathe.

“O-Oh God....” He said through gritted teeth. Karl wasn’t even halfway through and it already felt like so much. “T-This is nothing like your fingers.”

Stephen groaned and moved his hips up just a little, pushing in his cock by half an inch. “Come on, babe, you can do it. You feel so good, oh  _ fuck _ \-- you’re gonna take me so well. Just a bit more.”

Muffling out Stephen’s rambling, Karl began to lower himself once more, stopping halfway to kiss his boyfriend and stop himself from moaning loudly. He could already feel sweat starting shine his back and forehead, the trembling in his legs still refused to go away. He knew he didn’t have to go all the way through, he could ride Stephen from here, but he wanted to prove a point. He wanted to be Stephen’s best, that no other person after him will ever make Stephen feel this good.

Stephen’s hands moved from his hips to grab at his ass, spreading his cheeks apart as a silent plea to keep moving. Karl took a deep breath before doing just that, and it took all of his willpower not to whine loudly at the feeling of being buried to the hilt.

It was so much more than he expected. Stephen wasn’t even that big, yet Karl felt so overcome by the finality of it all and how special this moment could have been, that he felt a tear run down his cheek. He was pathetic and dramatic, but Stephen said nothing and kissed him instead, both of them ended up moaning into each other’s mouth.

Stephen pulled the kiss apart; when Karl opened his eyes, he saw the man had a drunk, tired smile on his face. “Karl, I’m inside you. Oh fuck, this is really happening.”

Karl could barely speak -- or maybe he way, he couldn’t really tell -- and simply chose to move his hips back and forth for now, trying to get used to the sensation. The American groaned and just roamed his hands all over his body, nibbling at his ears and leaving hickies all over his neck. 

A voice whispered in his ear, teasing and loving at the same time. “Are you gonna ride me or what?”

“ _ Da, aştepta--”  _ Karl opened his eyes again and saw Stephen staring at him intently, hungrily. He gave an experimental move of his hips, moving up and down on Stephen’s cock just once. That alone caused Stephen to groan,  _ loudly. _

He moved again, testing the waters, until he was comfortable enough to move up and down at a slow pace, Stephen’s hard cock dragging along the skin of his hole. It was so  _ good _ , and Stephen had already become a sweaty, blushing mess beneath him.

“Fuck yes, Karl.” He moaned, almost incoherently. “Bounce on it.”

Karl tried to go faster until he was doing as told -- bouncing on Stephen’s lap, thighs burning from the movements but he couldn’t care less -- Stephen was looking at him slack jawed in awe.

“Oh my god, Karl, I--” 

He gritted his teeth and threw his head back. “ _ Stephen _ ,  _ shut up _ .”

The American, in fact, did not shut up, and continued to ramble as Karl tried to get Stephen’s cock to his his prostate. “You look so good like this. So fucking hot. Karl, baby --  _ fuck _ “

Karl couldn’t stand it anymore. With the pain in his legs and the fact that they were supposed to be quiet, he had to resort to shutting Stephen up somehow. He covered Stephen’s mouth with the palm of his hand and shushed him. “We have t-to stay quiet. Please--” With a buck of his hips, Karl couldn’t hold back a groan. The hypocrisy... “Stephen, help me.”

He was growing exhausted but no where near sated enough to cum. Stephen grabbed at his hips again and moved, hips thrusting upwards, but it made the bed shook too much. Stephen panicked and rested his head on Karl’s chest to calm himself, panting with ragged breaths. Karl uncovered his mouth and hugged him. 

Karl whimpered. He was out of ideas now, there was no way they could continue this without making the bed make some sort of obvious noise. He felt a tear stain his cheek again -- it was so embarrassing. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

As always, Stephen seemed far more relaxed than himself. “Get on the floor so I can fuck you.”

He wished the man would have said it with a bit more tact, but Karl nodded. Stephen pulled out of him with a groan, making Karl feel incredibly empty. 

The floor was uncomfortable, of course, and possibly dirty, but it didn’t make noise if they moved too much. Karl got on all fours, ass up and head resting on the carpeted floor, panting for breath and feeling a bit of relief in his thighs. A warm hand came to touch his hole once more. “ _ Vă rog, Stefan _ \-- please.”

This time, Stephen shushed him -- gently and lovingly -- as he pressed the tip of his cock against Karl’s ass, ready to fuck him proper. It he were being honest, Karl had no idea how much he  _ needed _ this. 

Stephen pushed in again in one slick motion and leaned down until his chest was pressed against Karl’s back and his words were whispered into his ears. “You like it more like this, huh? So prim and proper. You like it when I take charge, don’t you baby?”

Karl nodded desperately, aching for Stephen to fuck his prostate. He hadn’t felt what it’s like yet but every article he researched, every single video he saw would not shut up about how amazing it felt. His thighs trembling beneath Stephen, he felt so  _ weak _ with this man -- in a good way. “ _ Da _ . Stephen, hurry. M-Move.”

“Bossy,” he said with a smile in his voice and began to move, fucking him hard and slow.  _ This  _ was Stephen strong suit, he definitely had done this before, because Karl could feel himself struggling to hold back any noises that escaped his lips. A hand came to cover his mouth with his palm, muffling out any moan that managed to leave him. It was just like their first time in the car, sweaty and messy and  _ far too much but not nearly enough  _ \-- skin slapping against skin and all Karl could see were the posters decorating Stephen’s walls, thought he wished he could look at Stephen.

He tried to speak, but his words were muffled by Stephen’s palm, and the fact that he was picking up his pace and fucking him harder now, groaning into his ear. “Next time you can be as loud as you want, I promise.”

Karl couldn’t help but whimper at the fact that his thighs ached too much for him to stay like this any longer, and that there won’t be a next time anytime soon. “Stephen, I w-want to look at you.”

He wished this could’ve have been done without Stephen having to slip out of him, but Karl managed to turn his body over so his back was resting on the floor, looking up at Stephen with half-lidded eyes. The American chuckled, “missionary, huh?” then slipped his cock back inside Karl’s body -- where it belonged. 

Karl spread his legs farther apart and begged. “Please, slower. Kiss me.”

All of the attitude that had formed on Stephen's face left immediately, Karl found himself wrapped in a kiss and being fucked slowly, just enough to breathe again. Stephen was such a good kisser, he had been his first in everything. He could feel Stephen’s pace starting to grow erratic and harsher, he was so close to finishing. 

Stephen rested his forehead against Karl’s, panting and moving a bit faster inside him, but all deliberate. Karl bit his lip when he felt Stephen get closer to _ the _ spot, so close to hitting that one place that was supposed to make him see stars.

And Christ, it had not been an exaggeration.

At the touch of Stephen’s cock hitting his prostate, Karl let out a whine that had to be muffled from both of Stephen’s hands. “Oh God.  _ Te rog.  _ Do it again. Stephen, please, do it again.” 

Stephen looked entirely out of it, face red and sweating, his hair was made a mess, yet he managed to understand and moved again, hitting that one place that was making Karl feel like he was going to go mad with pleasure. His body felt so hot, especially his neck and cheeks -- he knew sex would be a lot, but he never expected it to feel  _ this  _ good before Stephen. Karl wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and closed his eyes, too embarrassed at his reactions to acknowledge that he was showing his face. “Stephen, I-I...”

He didn’t notice he’d been crying until Stephen kissed his cheeks, wiping away tears. Whether it was because of pleasure or guilt, he did not know, but Stephen continued to kiss his face all while fucking him in messy, rough and harsh and a faster than need be. Karl clenched around him and reached down to stroke himself; he wanted to cum so badly. 

Stephen’s spoke in a whisper, voice tired and dazed. “So fucking tight, Karl. You feel so good.” He stopped to gasp for a moment. “I love you so much, baby. So much.”

That was it, that was all Karl needed to bring him past the edge. He threw his head back and bit his lip so hard he swore it would bleed, finishing all over his chest and Stephen’s. The American continued to move inside his oversensitive body, forcing small whimpers from Karl’s lips. Karl opened his eyes and watched him pant above him, still rambling about how good he felt.

Karl knew Stephen would be loud when he came, he always was. He was quick to cover the other man’s mouth with his palm, thought Stephen managed to control himself and finished with a low groan, quieter than he expected it to be. 

They collapsed on the floor, gasping for their dear lives, tears staining Karl’s face while Stephen was pulling out and kissing the expanse of his chest, leaving marks and hickeys for only him to see. There were the only sort of bruises Karl ever wanted to have on his body. 

Karl reached down and stroked Stephen’s hair. “Stephen?”

The man was a bit preoccupied with reaching down to grope at Karl’s ass, which he was so used to that he didn’t really mind at this point. “Hmm?”

“Your cock is still inside me. It’s really uncomfortable.”

“O-Oh, right.” Stephen held on to Karl’s hips as he pulled out, eliciting a small grunt from Karl once he was, well, empty now. It felt so strange, pun intended, and part of him wanted to ask Stephen to stick it in again and stay like that for hours, maybe go for another round, but he was exhausted and sweaty, not to mention that his thighs ached a lot. It was like he had ridden a horse. 

“Are you still wearing your condom?” 

Stephen groaned and he heard him take it off, making then both grimace in disgust, though it was mostly on Karl’s end. 

What he didn’t expect at all when he had sex was the awkward silence afterward. Stephen and him always felt so used to each other’s presence -- hell, this wasn’t even the first time they had sex -- but maybe this was different? Or maybe it was the fact that he was leaving for Romania in less than 24 hours. That definitely made the air around them a lot more... tense.

Not to mention that they were still on the floor, naked and covered in sweat despite the A/C that was turned on all around the house to try to beat the strong summer sun. As it turned out, penetrative sex was basically exercise, and porn made it seem less exhausting than it was, and less complex.

“That was... nice.” Karl admitted to try to break the silence.

“Just  _ nice _ ? I thought it was spectacular from my end.” Stephen smiled at him. 

“Alright it was very good, but not as romantic as I wanted it to be.” Karl still felt like an idiot when he admitted he wanted moments like these to mean something, to be special. As it turned out, life was nothing like the novels he had read and the movies he had seen. 

“Sorry, babe. Next time, we won’t do it on the floor.” His expression turned sad, though he didn’t stop smiling. “I don’t know when that will be, but I promise that the next time we do see each other, wherever that is, we’ll be alone and we will fuck to our brains out.”

Karl rolled his eyes. “I have something to look forward to, then.”

It looked like Stephen was going to say something else but they were soon interrupted by a knock at the door and someone fumbling with the doorknob to try to get in.

The pair scrambled to hide themselves; Stephen hastily put on some boxers, Karl hid under the bedsheets. It was ridiculous, mainly because it turned out to be Donna who was trying to come in, who couldn’t really care less. 

“Don’t come in, Donna!” Stephen yelled out, leaning against the door to hold it shut. “We’re busy!”

“Ew, don’t give me any details.” He heard he laugh from behind the door. It sounded exactly like Stephen’s laugh. “Mom just told me to tell you guys that it’s almost dinner.”

Stephen opened the door a bit, just enough for his head to peek through. “Um, did she knew we were... y’know?”

“ _ What _ ? I don’t know, it’s not like you guys are super subtle either.” Donna scoffed and pushed open the door, not listening to her brother’s protests. “Hey, Karl.”

Karl covered his chest with the bedsheets and gave her a shy wave. “Hello.”

She stayed in the middle of the room, surveying the scene in front of her. Karl was pretty sure she was doing it just to annoy her brother, but she smiled at him after the was done. “You two better change real quick, I’ll leave you to it. Be sure to hide that used condom, bro, you know Mom always cleans out your trash.”

With that, she left and closed the door behind her, a smug look on her face not unlike the one her brother wore so often. Karl couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s definitely your sister.”

They got dressed in a hurry. Karl had to end up wearing some of Stephen’s clothes, like a t-shirt and some comfortable pants that he would never wear outside. Stephen assured him that joggers were “in” right now, but Karl felt like he was wearing pajamas. However, Stephen always stared at him when he wore his clothes, almost possessively. It was the sort of possessiveness that Karl never minded, it was a bit sexy to be honest, as Stephen now continued to kiss the back of his neck softly at the sight of him, wrapping his arms around Karl’s waist.

The Romanian leaned his head back against Stephen’s shoulder. “You made me yours today.”

“Mm, I know. Now you’ll have to stay here forever, right?”

Karl gave him a sad smile. Stephen still had hope, he didn’t really understand why. Or how. “We really should head downstairs and eat. I’m starving.”

They were kissing now, lazily and slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. Karl was going to miss this so much.

Best not to dwell on that right now.

  
  


\---

 

Dinner ended up being a lot more awkward than either of them expected it to be.

Thanks to his darker skin, Karl could hide most of the hickeys that Stephen had left on his neck from a quick glance, but anyone who looked at him for more than a second would be able to tell. Stephen’s pale skin left nothing to the imagination, and while he had less than himself, the few marks on his neck and jaw were a slight red and obvious. It would have been too suspicious to wear a turtleneck or scarf in the middle of summer, not to mention that there was no point in hiding what was mostly known. 

Mr. and Mrs. Strange were silently eating away, with the occasional scattered questions directed toward Karl about how he was feeling and his plans for what he would do back in Romania. Karl didn’t want to talk of either, lying through his teeth that he was fine and happy to see his family again. Stephen would glance at him whenever he said this, Karl tried to ignore it.

Neither of them were sure if they were aware that they just had sex. Karl assumed that it was easy enough to connect the dots, and they  _ had _ to know that Stephen was... well, a bit of a playboy. He focused on his food for now, he knew no one was going to discuss the elephant in the room.

He fidgeted in his seat, still feeling a bit of discomfort from his and Stephen’s previous activities. He still couldn’t believe that he was coming back to his home country without his virginity.

The dinner table eventually fell into total silence. Beverly made Karl’s favorite dessert that he had learned to love during his time in America, blueberry pie, but he didn’t have the stomach to eat more than a thin slice. When he refused Beverly’s offer for seconds, her smile seemed sad. She had Stephen’s same smile, too.

It made him feel guiltier.

He noticed that Mr. Strange did not look at him once during dinner. Karl did not want to butt into his issues with Stephen, but he hoped the man wasn’t too resentful against him. He knew what resent and anger could do to someone -- he only hoped that Stephen did not fall into the same rabbit hole.

Karl excused himself, thanking all of them for a wonderful meal, and made his way up to Stephen’s room, feeling tears start to well up in his eyes. No, he would not cry. There was no use in it, their fate was sealed. It was what the universe had the decided for him, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that it was so unfair.

He heard Stephen’s footsteps going up the stairs and open the door behind him, closing it softly, almost not to startle him. Karl just then realized that he was back in Stephen’s bed, curled up in fetal position. He couldn’t look more pathetic if he tried, and anyone with functioning eyes could see that he was struggling not to cry, not to be furious with the world, but Stephen thankfully knew not to talk about it. Instead, he felt arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer, until Stephen’s chest was against his back and he could feel the man’s heartbeat. It was beating so fast, as was his own -- he supposes neither of them will ever get used to each other’s touch.

“Stephen,” Karl began, voice strained. “Could you put on some music, please?”

The American didn’t respond with words, but he nodded. As he felt him get up and go to his record collection, he wondered if Stephen was holding his own voice back, trying to keep it steady.

The record player started with something slow, something romantic. If they were up to it, it would be something they could dance to, but Karl felt so tired, he was sure Stephen was too, so they curled back together again on the bed, trying not to count the minutes they had left together. 

“I love you.” 

Karl turned to face Stephen. He felt a kiss to his forehead. Stephen spoke up again, voice still quiet and whispered, as if they were sharing a secret. “Can you... um, say it back? I just wanna hear it again.”

It actually took him a moment to say it, not because he didn’t mean it, but the words felt so foreign in his mouth. Perhaps it made them more special, but he wishes he could be like Stephen and throw them around whenever he wanted to. “I love you too.” 

Karl could see as Stephen cheeks turned pink and his body got closer to his own, craving it again. “I love you so much.” He said, holding Stephen’s face in his hands. He was going to grow addicted with these words.

“I don’t want you to go...” 

“I know.” He wasn’t going to say how much he didn’t want to leave again, it was fruitless. 

For a moment, Stephen’s face lit up as he grabbed Karl’s hands in his own -- they were larger too, Stephen’s hands almost seemed to engulf Karl’s, it was kinda hot... not that Karl had thought about that too much. Not at all. 

“Run away with me.”

Karl stared at him, dumbfounded, before he pulled his hands away. “Stop making jokes.”

“I’m not joking. Run away with me.”

His voice came out more exasperated than he intended. “Where would we even  _ go _ , Stephen? How would we run away? Please, tell me your brilliant plan.”

“Well... we could get a ticket right now with all the money you have for the same day your leave, except you buy a plane ticket for me and I sneak in. You put all of my clothes and stuff in your luggage so I won’t have to bring any and look suspicious, except I bring a backpack with my passport and documents. We go somewhere far and remote, where they’ll never find us, and we’ll make money somehow.”

“You’ve... you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” It was depressing, actually, how idyllic Stephen could be. “Oh, Stephen...”

“Listen, it could work.”

He allowed himself to play along, just for a moment. “Where do you want to run away?”

“Kathmandu.”

“Kathmandu? Like the Bob Seger song?”

Stephen smiled at him. “God, it’s so hot that you know that.”

“And what would we do, in Kathmandu?” He’d only ever been that far east to go to China, and that was for a family business trip when he was a child. Nonetheless, he was forced to learn some of the language. At least Wong seemed impressed.

“Maybe I’ll end up being a farmer after all. You can raise goats and cook, we’ll live in the mountains.”

Karl actually scoffed at the thought. “You? Live in the mountains? You’re a city boy at heart, Stephen. And you wanted to become a doctor to help your sister, remember? You wouldn’t abandon that, I know it. You’re Stephen Strange, you’re the most stubborn and dedicated person I know.”

He wasn’t surprised that the other man seemed deflated at his words, but did he honestly expect for the two of them to run away like that? Stephen pouted and looked up at ceiling instead. “How would you know?”

“Well, you somehow won me over.”

That made him smile, at least. “Since when are you all optimistic now?”

“I’m not, I’m saying the truth. And the truth is that you have to stop coming up with these dreams and face reality. It’s going to be hard to stay as a couple, Stephen, even if we both want to.”

Stephen fell silent, face completely stoic as it stared at the white, cement ceiling. “You think we should end this now?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. I’ll just... have to keep you a secret.”

He expected Stephen to protest. The last thing he could want would be to become a secret, it was the last thing Karl wanted. Stephen held his hand again -- he actually wasn’t sure if he’d ever let go of it -- and spoke cautiously. “You know you don’t have to settle for your life. You can be more than them. I’m bad at saying stuff like this, you know it, but l think you shouldn’t feel obligated to keep me as a secret.”

“But I have to.”

“No, you don’t. No one does.”

Karl stared down, embarrassed and ashamed at his cowardliness. Stephen continued. “The truth is gonna come out sooner or later. Might as well say it yourself and fight for it.”

He whimpered, feeling weak and so, so angry. “I don’t want them to hurt me anymore.”

“They won’t, I won’t allow it.” Stephen’s arms wrapped around his body for a tight hug. The sort that he never wanted to end. “Just promise me you’ll try and stand up for yourself. Do it for us. Please, Karl, I love you.”

He wished he had something to say, something to counterpoint Stephen’s worry, but it was well founded, and he had a point. No matter how much Karl hated to acknowledge it, no matter how much it terrified him, he was right. 

“I love you too.” 

Stephen’s smile was loving and kind as he moved on top of Karl’s body. He just now noticed that the sun had been replaced by the moon, and it was so dark that all he could see was Stephen’s silhouette, feeling only his slender body move and settle over his own. “I love it when you say that. I really do... Do it again.”

Karl gulped. It felt like it was just yesterday that those three words terrified him so much, that he was weeping openly just at the thought of hearing them. “I love you, Stephen.”

That earned him a peck to his lips, and now Stephen’s smile felt wicked against his lips. “I love you.” Karl spoke out again, his voice felt like it was shaking. He didn’t know why. 

Oh no, he was crying again. Why was he crying? He was supposed to be happy, and they still had hours until he left. Stephen’s thumb stroked his cheek to wipe them dry, but all Karl felt was fury and sadness burying his calm.

“Oh god, Stephen, he’s dead.” The shock of leaving America had completely made him forget the fact that Krowler Mordo was dead. He was dead, and Karl had  _ never _ imagined that was a possibility. The weight of the man’s legacy and views on the world had left his shoulders, his mother nor his father had even an inkling of the fear Karl had for him. 

He was dead. Karl was free. And he was crying -- why is he crying?

“You forgot he died, babe?” Stephen couldn’t help but laugh just a bit. He still didn’t understand the severity of the situation, but Karl allowed it to slide. 

“Christ, I did. Stephen, he’s dead!” Karl actually laughed alongside him. He felt like a maniac, celebrating his own family member’s death like this, but he was also his abuser, it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. “I shouldn’t be smiling, but I can’t stop. God wouldn’t be happy about it.”   
  
“I doubt God would be on his side. I thought you weren’t religious.”

“Yes but... years and years of going to church and being forced to pray every day doesn’t go away so easily.”

They settled until Karl was sitting comfortably on Stephen’s lap, the two of them trying  _ very  _ hard not to think of what they did earlier that day, still speaking in the dark. Stephen’s arms were almost cradling him, which Karl found very soothing -- he tried not to think of the connotations of that too much, and just focused on leaning his head on Stephen’s chest instead, listening to his heartbeat that he wouldn’t be able to hear again in a long time. It was soothing, too soothing, and Karl found himself almost drifting off into sleep multiple times. He kept trying to stay away, even if it was almost three in the morning, and Stephen had spent the entire time talking away about something useless just to spend the time. He was probably trying to stay awake too.

Karl groaned, shifting where he sat. “Wait, repeat what you said. I wasn’t listening.”

Stephen yawned above him. “I, uh... forgot.”

“We should go to sleep.”

“No...” The arms around his body held him tighter, as if it would stop him from leaving. “Let’s pull an all nighter.”

“We’re going to crash asleep in seconds. There is no use.”

The American was mumbling now. “Don’t want you to go... if we give each other handjob we can probably stay awake for another hour.”

“I’m not going to give you a handjob at this hour.”

Stephen laughed, his chest moving as he did so. It felt nice. “What about in the morning? A pre-flight handjob?”

Karl leaned down until he was on top of Stephen’s chest while he was laying with his back against the mattress. “That sounds nice.”

There was a kiss to his forehand, a hand rubbing circles at his back lazily. Karl couldn’t hold back a smile, almost completely drifting off into slumber. 

“Gonna miss you.” Stephen mumbled, almost completely unreadable. “I love you lots.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, dick.”

“I love you too.”

He could say something else. He could apologize for leaving early once more. They could argue or talk until the just couldn’t anymore and they collapsed out of sheer exhaustion at the crack of dawn.

But they didn’t. Everything had been said, everything was already argued. There was nothing left to do but sleep and wait for the inevitable.

Karl finally closed his eyes and imagined a clock, ticking and ticking away until his departure. There were hours, then he counted the minutes, then the seconds, until he couldn’t think and allowed himself to dream.

 

\---

 

Karl had kept his promise in the morning. 

His flight didn’t leave for another five hours, and he didn’t really need to be at the airport for another three. The Stranges were kind enough to drive him, as they argued that the taxi fare would be too high, even if they knew Karl could afford it. It was for Stephen’s sake, more than anything. They were left to their own devices after a brief talk over breakfast, telling Karl to go back up and check that he packed anything, joking that they weren’t going to send back anything he left unless he paid for it. Karl had laughed, even if it was hollow, made his way upstairs again, followed closely by Stephen as always.

And now he found himself straddling Stephen on the bed, light-headed out after a lazy orgasm, stroking the other man’s cock and kissing him everywhere. Stephen liked having his chest touched, especially his nipples -- if he was allowed to moan, Karl would be making Stephen let out the most amazing sounds with just his tongue circling the man’s fleshy, pink nub, and the hand that was pumping his cock in earnest. 

He loved it, he loved making Stephen feel liked this, so blissed out he actually didn’t speak or ramble on about how good this felt. Just the scattered, stifled groans and hissing to try to keep himself quiet, all under the covers of the bed he’d grown to enjoy so much. 

Karl lowered his lips to Stephen’s cock, sucking on the now practically red, leaking head without warning. Stephen gasped then let out a muffled sound -- he was biting on a finger, Karl could tell -- while he bobbed his head up and down his cock. 

The fact that he liked doing this act so much would have mortified his grandfather, possibly causing a heart attack. The thought alone made him smile with his mouth full.

Stephen reached to pull on his boyfriend’s hair. He felt a  _ tap-tap-tap-tap-tap  _ to the top of his head. “Fuck me, Karl. I’m gonna--” 

He finished all over Karl’s plump lips and his chin, gasping for air. Karl wiped it off and rose from under the covers, smiling with a bit of cum still dripping from his chin.

Stephen took the opportunity to reach for his polaroid camera and take a picture. “That’s going in the jerk-off folder.”

“Just one picture? That isn’t nearly enough.” Karl gave him a wicked smile, pushing the covers back to give Stephen a better view of everything. 

“You sure?” Stephen asked, breathless and already ready to take another picture. 

Karl pressed his tongue to Stephen’s cock, still hard even after orgasm, and nodded. He heard the polaroid go off again -- a couple of times, actually, each one with different angles of Karl wrapping his lips around Stephen’s cock, until Stephen had around ten picture, but that’s only because he ran out of stock.

“I turned you into a bit of a slut, didn’t I?” 

“Perhaps.” Karl carefully tucked that man’s cock back into his briefs. “Or maybe I was always like this. You just... awakened me.”

“Mm, I shouldn’t taken some pictures of me with my cock inside you. Actually, can I?

Karl shook his head, smiling fondly. “No, I’m too tired. Besides, we have to put on our clothes soon.”

“Can I at least take some more pictures with my phone?”

“Absolutely not.” Even if he didn’t want to have another round of sex, it didn’t mean he wasn’t in the mood to tease Stephen. The Romanian moved until they were chest-to-chest, feeling his cock twitch in interest once more, but he paid it no mind. “But maybe I will send you some, if you’re good.”

“And I call you everyday?”

“Every day.”

“You sound like my mom again.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “I certainly hope you don’t find yourself like  _ this  _ with your mother.”

“Shut up!” Stephen laughed and pushed him to the side. He stood and began to put on some clothes while Karl watched him. “Like the view?”

“Always.”

“You’re so fucking gay.”

Karl laughed, but he was wearing an embroidered bathrobe with his initials as he watched his boyfriend change, so maybe he had a point.

Stephen leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead. “You should change, baby.”

“I know.” He replied, even if he didn’t move away. 

“I really wanna make out with you right now, but you gotta change. We got to get all your stuff in the truck and say goodbye to Wong.”

With a sigh, Karl finally obliged and changed to some of his own clothes, which he probably hasn’t worn in a while. Looking at himself in the mirror wearing the sort of clothes he used to wear at the beginning of the summer was strange, he was growing used to Stephen’s t-shirts. Suddenly, his trousers felt too tight, and his polo shirt too stuffy. It was almost choking him, he undid the first few buttons for good measure.

He heard a knock on the door. Karl rolled his eyes. “We can keep making out in a second, let me finish.”

“Ew, no. It’s me.” Donna said through the door, sounding rightfully grossed out.

Karl opened the door for her. She flinched, as if she was expecting to see him half clothed. He stood up straight again and smiled, the smile slightly-crooked one she shared with her brother. It was cute, he had to admit.

“Can I come in?” She asked since Karl wasn’t speaking.

“O-Oh, of course.” Karl closed the door behind her, wondering what she wanted to say.

“So, you’re leaving today, huh?”

“Yes.” He stood near the door awkwardly with his hands behind him. “Already packed. “

“Cool, cool. Listen, I just wanted to, like, thank you for everything you did for my bro.”

He perked up. “Really? I thought you were going to give me the “hurt him and I’ll kill you” speech.”

“Well, you already kinda got him beaten up, but that was his fault too. And I know you two argued or whatever. That speech would be useless now.” She twirled some of her red hair on her fingertips. “Seriously, I’ve never seen him this happy with anyone else, except maybe Wong, but that’s a different kind of happy, y’know?”

“Ah, well, you’re welcome.”

Now she was looking down, shuffling at her feet ever so slightly. Karl stepped closer, slightly worried. “Um, I was just wondering if you have any pointers...” She trailed off voice quiet and quick when she spoke again. “...on-how-to-come-out-to-my-parents.”

Karl couldn’t say he was shocked, since Stephen had mentioned her secret crushes and girlfriends once or twice before. Really, both of them were too charismatic and attractive for their own good. He was a bit jealous that even at her age, Donna had gotten more attention than he ever did. “Are you... gay?”

“I don’t know. I like girls but I think I like anyone who’s hot. But mostly girls.” Her hands shook a bit as she spoke. Karl knew it wasn’t easy. “Since you came out with Stephen and all, I thought you could tell me how they would react? Or if I should even do it?”

“Why not ask your brother?”

“I don’t know, I just--” Donna wiped her eyes for a moment. He didn’t like seeing her so weak. “--I just feel like he already worries about me so much now he’s gonna worry about me being disabled  _ and _ queer. And I’m already such a burden for ma and pa, they spend a lot of money on my pills and stuff. If it wasn’t for the insurance, hell, I don’t know what we’d do.”

“You are not a burden, your parents love you.” He felt another twinge of jealousy for that. Seriously, this was not the time. Karl didn’t know what he should do in these situations, he didn’t have any siblings. Should he... hug her? “Do you want a hug?”

“What? No! That would be weird.” She scoffed. Karl smiled at her. “Like, my dad was already so mad at Stephen for dating you. I know he’ll get over it, eventually, but I don’t want him to be mad at me too. And then he’ll have to deal with  _ all _ of his kids being queer.”

“You don’t have to tell them, not until you know you’re ready. But that means you’ll have to hide, which is never easy.” Instead of hugging her, he simply placed a hand on her shoulder, patting her comfortingly. “I feel like a hypocrite saying that... it was my fault that Stephen had to come out in the first place.”

“Nah, that was Nic’s fault in the end.” She shrugged. “Have you come out to your parents?”

“No, but I... I think i will, soon.”

Donna raised her eyebrows. “What are they like?”

She seemed so young all of the sudden, so curious. It was easy to forget she was only fourteen, she was very smart and mature for her age. “They are... not as good as yours.”

"Oh.” Donna looked down again. “I hope it all goes well.”

“As do I.”

Before she hugged him out of nowhere, Karl heard her murmur “fuck it” under her breath, holding him tightly in gratitude. Karl hugged her back, only now realizing how tall she was for her age, they were almost the same height. “Good luck back in Romania or whatever... I know we didn’t talk a lot, but you’re kinda cool.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah, your boyfriend is way cooler than you, though. Don’t tell him I said that.” She gave him a toothy grin.

“You’re right, he is.” He pulled apart from the hug and ruffled her hair just a bit. “Thank you, Donna.”

“No problemo.”

The door opened behind them. Stephen leaned against the doorframe and smile. “Ah, there you are. Donna, remember to take your meds before leaving, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She patted Stephen’s shoulder as she left the room, glancing back to wink at Karl. He didn’t know what the wink meant, but he appreciated it. 

“What were you two talking about?”

“Not much. You should... talk to her, though. Soon. It’s nothing that’s dangerous or an emergency but... talk to her when you can.”

It earned him a worried look from Stephen,  though Karl expected nothing less. “Alright. Listen, dad told me to help you bring your stuff down to the car.”

That was it, it was final. It was really happening. “Alright.”

Stephen gave him a sad smile before helping him with his luggage. It was almost just as much as he had when he came, save for a few extra shirts, books and knick-knacks here and there. It was the same car he had been picked up on, same road he knew all too well now, same corn fields that seemed to stretch out for miles.

They sat on the back, with Donna looking out the window and not at them out of courtesy. They listened to music together, just like they always did, except it was with Stephen’s earbuds and not on radio, because the music was for them and only for them. Stephen rested his head on Karl’s shoulder. Now and then, he could see Mr. Strange meet his eyes through the rearview mirror. They were unreadable, he tried not to dwell on it.

Stephen held his hand on his lap, tighter than usual. Their palms were sweating but neither of them seemed to care.

They had stopped at Wong’s bookstore before leaving. He wasn’t sad, but he did receive a manly, quick hug from the other man. It was a very nice hug, he’d let Wong know that. It earned him a rare smile, one that was usually only ever reserved for Stephen. They exchanged phone numbers and book recommendations before he sprinted back to the truck. 

He wasn’t only leaving his boyfriend, but he was also leaving his first friend. 

It was best not to dwell on it.

They arrived at the airport after a long drive. Stephen’s playlist had repeated twice, but neither of them had bothered to change it. They really didn’t want to speak to each other. Usually, it would be out of anger and spite, but talking to each other right then and there would have made him far, far too sad.

They accompanied him to check in, to pay for his larger bags, all standing in the back wordlessly, save for Beverly, who kept trying to lighten the mood with a few jokes or small talk. Karl only smiled and nodded, but he was thankful.

“All that’s left is, um, security.” He said, holding his passport and ticket in one hand, the other holding on tightly to his backpack.

Stephen spoke up. “We can’t go with you there.” It wasn’t a question.

“No... you can’t.” Karl’s smile came out awkward, and forced. “I guess is where I say goodbye.”

Mr. Strange said goodbye first with a firm handshake and a tight smile. Karl didn’t expect anything else, and felt nothing when the man walked outside to smoke. He could already see him fumbling with his hand on his pocket, where he kept his lighter and cigarettes. Karl returned the handshake a smile, there was really nothing for them to say.

Mrs. Strange -- no, Beverly -- hugged him tightly, a bit too tight and beamed down at him. “I am so glad you were able to stay with us. You know you’re welcome back whenever you want.”

“Thank you, Beverly.”

“And be sure to call whenever you can. I know you and Stephen will be calling each other all the time but I’d love to hear from you. I wish you all the best.”

Karl gave her a smile in response after she kissed his cheeks and left to her husband. Part of him wanted to ask for another hug. He figured he should get as much hugs as he can before he left back home, where he got none.

Donna didn’t give him a hug, as expected, and simply shook his hand in mutual silence. All the words that needed to be said between the two of them had been said. 

It just left Stephen, who had been deliberately waiting for say goodbye last. His eyes were already red, he was sniffing as he walked in front of him too, Karl felt awful. Mainly because he couldn’t bring himself to cry. 

Stephen spoke low, carefully. Making sure no one else passing by heard them. “I thought I was gonna be ready to say goodbye. This is embarrassing.”

“I’m going to miss you.” He answered, simply, before Stephen beat him to the punch.

“I love you.” Stephen wiped the corner of his eyes again, he was trying to hard to hide it from anyone who might see and failing miserably. “I love you a lot.”

“I love you too.”

The airport suddenly felt crowded, as if all eyes were on them. They weren’t, but Karl couldn’t help but feel paranoid and terrified. It was America, after all, and he was surrounded by so many people who looked nothing like him. 

Stephen leaned in for a hug, hopefully one that could still be categorized as a “bro-hug”, and probably staining his shirt with a few tears.

Karl turned to whisper at his ear. “Kiss me.”

“Are you sure? In front of everyone?”

He paused. “...I’m sure.”

Seeing Stephen hesitate before a kiss was difficult, it was almost heartbreaking. Stephen had never hesitated for anything, he did what he wanted and damned be the consequences. Now, he had his lips just inches away from his own, looking at him with eyes full of love, and fear. Karl wondered if his eyes looked the same. He hoped they did.

The kiss was far too brief, it felt more like a peck. Karl didn’t want to leave with a kiss like that. 

He held Stephen’s face and kissed him again, this time with a kiss that he would remember. He didn’t use tongue, he didn’t need to, just lips moving against each other softly. 

Time seemed to stop to a halt when they kiss, the world started to turn again when they pulled apart. Stephen rose his hand to his mouth, almost in surprise, then smiled. 

Two months ago, Karl would never have done that. 

He rested a hand on Stephen’s cheek. Just one more touch before he left. He wanted his last sight of Stephen to be happy. Well, not last. He wouldn't allow this to be a tragedy.

“I’ll see you soon. I love you” He said, finally. Karl wished he could have said something clever. He wished he wouldn’t have walked away before Stephen could have said something in return, but he couldn’t bare it anymore. 

Karl walked away with a good memory, despite his regrets, but he needed to focus on his flight, on his family, on what he would even say to them.

He put on his headphones, ignoring the fact that the woman behind him on the line was staring at him with a sour look on his face, she must’ve seen everything, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Karl allowed himself to have one last look at Stephen, but he was already gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl returns to Romania and reaches his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's the penultimate chapter!!! Exciting, isn't it?
> 
> I have no idea when I will be able to post the next chapter. It's gonna be pretty long and it's still a WIP, so I'm hoping I can post it in at least a month.
> 
> Also, you know the tag that says non-graphic abuse? Well. It gets very graphic here. Heed the warnings listed below. 
> 
> WARNINGS: graphic abuse. psychological/emotional/physical abuse. violent/intrusive thoughts. Suicidal thoughts. Alcohol. Smoking. Police using excessive force.

The service was longer than he anticipated.

Krowler Mordo’s funeral was in the most grandiose church that Romania could offer, with high, imposing ceilings and classical art that made sure to strike the fear of god into anyone who looked. It was the church they went to every year for all the important services, the one that they were forced to go to in order to seem like a proper catholic family. Long christmases and easter mornings had been wasted away in this church, and now he had watched his dead grandfather’s body in a casket be revered and missed by hundreds of people he’d never met, that he knew possibly hated his grandfather as much as he did. The air was filled with hate, jealousy of the man’s legacy, or ambivalence. Krowler, no matter how much he was looked up to by some, will never be truly missed. It was a cathartic feeling. It was the first time he’d ever felt at peace at any church.

His mother had forced him to write a eulogy. Karl didn’t protest, but he didn’t put much thought into it either. It was as dry as it could be, Karl supposed the only thing he thanked him for was for existing, thought he sprinkled in some peppered thoughts that he assumed all his conservative followers would enjoy, along with asking God that he lived in peace. He wondered how God felt that he wished he rot in hell, he wondered if God would be on his side.

The drive home was uneventful at best. He sat in the backseat with his mother and father as their driver returned them home, all looking out the window or at the ground, not at each other.

Neither of them had consoled him, or welcomed him home, or even asked about his time in America yet. He would have thought that they had the decency to worry for their son, but obviously being around the Strange family had made him forget how different his own family was.

He clenched his fists on his lap and took out his phone. Stephen had only responded saying he was glad he arrived safe to Romania, but had not spoken to him since.

His mother was leaning against the window with a tired look on her face, she has managed most of the funeral expenses and the wake. She would never trust his father to take care it, not because he was stupid or anything, but she wanted to be the matriarch of the household. His mother was the only one in the family who loved Krowler -- no, not love, she respected Krowler and wanted to prove to him that she was worthy of equal respect, she had to work double to earn it. Her dress was black and new, bought just for the occasion, and she wore lipstick redder than any blood that never really quite suited her. 

His father wore his usual normal suit and greying hair, with eyes that showed nothing. Karl wondered if his father was as relieved as he was, as he was a victim of Krowler’s bullying. He was never hit, of course, but the venomous words directed his way had turned him into a cowardly, self-hating man. Karl hadn’t noticed until now just how much his father fidgeted with his hands and with his shirt collar, just as Mr. Strange did. He probably wanted to smoke.

When they arrived, the servants brought them dinner. His mother set a picture of Krowler on a nearby table next to a pot of flowers. He looked noble in the picture, face set and serious. It was as if the picture was still dominating the room, watching them closely. Karl kept darting his eyes at it, scared that the man would jump out of the frame at minute. 

He needed a distraction.

Karl peeked at his phone once more. Still no messages, still nothing new. As if anyone other than Stephen would talk to him. 

His mother scowled and spoke in their native tongue. “Give me your phone.”

“I was simply--”

“You know the rules, give it to me.” 

Karl did as told. Usually it was Krowler who would take it away and lock it until the next morning. Or a few days, if he forgot. She set it next to her plate and continued to eat. 

“What were you checking?”

“Nothing.”

She wasn’t watching him, her eyes were still focused on her food, calm as ever. “Nothing?”

“I was checking if I had messages.”

“Messages? From who?”

“The friend I made in America.”

She paused. “Steve, is it?”

“His name is Stephen.”

“Tell me about him.”

Karl was taken aback. He assumed she wouldn’t care at all, that she would laugh in his face about having his first friend. He collected himself before speaking. His father said nothing during this exchange, but looked at him with interest.

“Um, he is studying neurosurgery in New York City, he wants be a surgeon there.” Karl was trying his hardest not to smile at the memory of him, even the mere thought of Stephen made him feel lighter, but that would be too suspicious. “He likes old music from the eighties and seventies, he introduced me to a lot of music I didn’t know about.”

“Hm, is this him?” She tapped the screen and showed it to him. Karl had forgotten his lockscreen was a picture of the two of them together, facing the camera and smiling. He thanked his lucky stars it seemed platonic enough.

“Yes.”

“Hm. He should cut his hair.” Her face turned into one of disgust. “Is that an earring?”

“Yes, he wears them sometimes.”

“And his parents allow this?”

“...Sort of.”

Sara Mordo shook her head, clearly disappointed in how his generation acted. “I don’t like it. He seems like a bad influence.”

Karl perked up on his seat, feeling defensive. “He’s studying to be a doctor. And he’s a kind person! Very smart, just has a little rebellious phase.” 

_ Pick your battles, Karl. Pick your battles. _

The young Romanian continued. “He’s good, I swear. A good friend.”

His mother narrowed his eyes and placed the phone back on the table. “Alright. I didn’t expect much from a farmer boy anyway.”

Karl almost sighed out loud in relief. He didn’t, but he leaned back in his seat, thankful that she didn’t put up more of a fight.

She whispered something to the servant, asking for more wine for all three of them. They deserve it, as she said, after the day they had gone through. 

Oh, it was her third cup. That explained it.

Karl took a sip of his drink, nervous as both of his parents eyes were on him. He left like some sort of prey being watched by two hawks, ready to strike at any moment.

Sara Mordo glanced back at her father’s picture. “What a good man. So powerful.”

He stared at his wine and didn’t comment.

“It will be such a stressful day at parliament tomorrow.”

“I suppose it will be.”

“It only seems obvious that I should take his position, don’t you think so?”

Of course she would make this about her. Karl nodded in agreement again. He didn’t really care about the state of her politics, as much as he’d been forced to learn about it and follow in her and her father’s footsteps. “I hope they give it to you.”

“As do I, Karl.” She stood up near him, looming over his body from beside the chair. “As do I.” 

She turned her head to him, slowly. She seemed light-headed. 

A manicured nail dragged against his cheek. He supposed it was caressing, tender, but it felt like a knife. 

He still accepted it, almost leaned into her hand. He wanted her to try, it had been so long since she tried. He just wanted a mother again, like the one he had when he was a baby. He wanted to feel the same love that Stephen received every single day.

She held his chin steady, making sure their eyes met.

“Did you practice piano as well?”

“Yes, mother.”

“I want you to practice tonight as well.”

“Alright.”

She smiled, but her face did not match her lips. “We’re glad you’re back with us. We will start this family anew, even if he isn’t with us anymore.”

He nodded again. Her hands left his chin and she walked away without another word, a sway in her step as his father followed dutifully behind her. 

Karl moved to the living room and filled the rest of his evening with music. 

 

\---

  
  


He was growing used to his routine again. It was like living on autopilot. He woke up, studied, worked for his father or his mother, practiced piano, studied, then slept. 

Wake up. Study. Work. Practice. Study. Rest.

It was like a goddamn vicious cycle. He’d never realized how boring it was, how pathetic this routine felt. Karl was naturally a man of routine, he liked his days organized and with fixed points he could always count on, but if there was anything that being in America had taught him, it was that his routine could be better than this. Anything was better than this.

When he studied, his mind no longer registered the words he read. He was thinking about Stephen, he was thinking about freedom. Karl wanted to live again, at least for a brief moment, but he was back in the shackles of this mansion, and he was slowly losing his mind.

He needed a way out, soon. And he needed to speak to his mother.

Karl left his room and made his way to the woman’s study, where she was filing some documents. Her back was still turned towards him, he could easily escape and try again some other time.

He gulped before he spoke, “ _ Mamă _ , can we talk for a moment?”

She closed the filing cabinet and turned to him. “Is it important?”

“Yes. It is. I want to talk about my future."

She froze, briefly, before sitting behind her desk, expecting Karl to sit on the chair in front of it. Karl needed to stand his ground this time, at least for once. He stood instead, the two of them looking at each other with intense gazes. 

“What of your future?”

He tensed, not knowing what to say. Karl should have prepared before doing this, he’d never felt this impulsive. 

“I don’t want to study in Romania.”

“Why not? We have good universities. It was the one I went to and the one your grandfather attended.” His mother leaned back in her seat, her face alone made Karl feel nervous, it held so much vicious mockery behind it. 

“I am interested in some programs in other countries, actually. Like London. And Hong Kong.” Karl ran his fingers through his hair. His mother had already made him cut it back to its regular short, boring style the instant he landed before the funeral.

“Hong Kong?” She laughed. In his face. “What would you study there that you don’t have here? Or in London?”

Karl’s eyes drifted to his feet as he realized this might be a losing battle. “The... literature and history programs seem interesting.”

“ _ Literature _ ?” She laughed again as if it was the funniest joke she’d heard that day. “How can you be a parliament member if you study stories? Or of you keep focusing on the past?”

“It’s a respectable study,  _ mamă _ . I don’t... I don’t want to be in politics.”

“You don’t want to support your country, Karl? Instead of being a historian, why not guide our country towards the future?”

“I--”

“Are you embarrassed of being Romanian? Do you really care so little about your family that you want to get away from us?” 

Karl gripped at the edge of the wooden chair, seeing red.

“Are you embarrassed of your education, Karl? You attend the finest school in the country. Why not show some appreciation for  _ all _ we have sacrificed for you.”

He was still looking down, no longer hiding his anger. His mother was so manipulative, so cruel, but all of the fear he had in his heart reserved just for her and his family were gone after living with Stephen, and with Krowler’s death. 

_ Pick your battles, Karl. Pick your battles. _

“I don’t want to be a politician like you. I want to be a writer. Or a professor. I think those are respectable fields.”

Her laughter was turning into silent fury as she leaned closer to him, standing up behind her desk, hands leaning against the expensive, polished wood. “We have given you  _ everything _ so you could follow in your family’s footsteps. Everything. How could you say something like that?”

“I want to go into the arts. I could even play music professionally and not just for show!” He wanted her to see the bright side in this so badly. He wanted just one word of encouragement, one smile that came from a place of love, not mockery. “I really love playing piano, and I’m good at it. I’ve always loved to read books and novels, you encouraged it, even. I think my talents would be more useful in that field,  _ mamă _ .”

It was stupid to think that he would’ve received any other reaction for his mother, but he was desperate for something kind, something loving. The months he spent next to Beverly had warped all of his perceptions on what family was, of what it could be. And now he found himself eye to eye with his mother as she stared him down, making him feel like a coward. 

She slapped him against the face, his cheek already forming a bruise from her large golden ring being struck against his skin. She slapped him again before he spoke, leaving him with what would definitely become two bruises on his cheek -- Karl took a step away, then another. 

“You will  _ not _ embarrass me with this. Do not dare tell your father or anyone else about these stupid dreams. You have never, not once complained about the life we chose for you and now you go to America  _ once  _ and think you can do whatever you want?”

Karl stood in silence, holding his hand against his cheek. He didn’t want to look at his mother’s face, instead he found himself acting like a coward and closing his eyes. He’s not going to cry, he won't let her see him cry.

“Answer me!”

He gritted his teeth. “You cannot control me forever.”

This time, when his mother tried to hit him again, Karl reached out and grabbed her arm. The look of surprise on her face was absolutely worth it, he should’ve done this earlier. Karl continued, “I will never be a politician, that I can assure you.”

His mother’s fury was no longer silent, she was seething with rage. “You can’t decide that! What will your grandfather think?!”

“He’s dead, he isn’t thinking of anything.”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ speak of him that way.”

Karl locked eyes with his mother and glared at her. “He isn’t alive, mamă. You don’t have to keep trying to impress him.”

That seem to do it. With a final blow to his face again with the back of her hand, Karl was promptly kicked out of his mother’s office. It seemed that her words had struck a very specific cord in her, and he could already picture her reaching for the bottle of whiskey she hid behind her desk.

It was the first time he’d been hit since he arrived but he’d been through this, and much worse, hundreds of times before. The fact that he was used to it should terrify him, but now he knew that it could change, somehow. He could stop his mother and he could be free, Karl just needed to find out how.

Karl went back to his room and prayed for the first time in months.

  
  


\----

 

He’s sure his mother is slowly losing her mind.

Karl remembered the day Krowler died, when he received the call from his mother. Her voice seemed solid, strong as always, not a quiver in her words as she announced her father’s death. The two were inseparable, not out of love but of codependency, the sort that was bred on hate, fear, and the sort of strange, violent family love that isn’t healthy for anyone.

And Karl was driving her past the edge. 

It wasn’t on purpose, it wasn’t his goal. He just wanted to have the same freedom he had in America, or at least one percent of it. Which was why he was no longer following his rigid schedule. He hasn’t practiced the piano in three days, hasn’t touched his books, and has been writing essays upon essays to any university with a half-decent literature program, getting scholarships from every corner he could fit into. Well, it wasn’t exactly the most rebellious he could be, but it felt like something.

He entertained the thought of applying to Columbia for Stephen, but he was going to leave to medical school soon, he’d toyed with the idea of going to John Hopkins or just staying in Columbia. It had a wonderful history program, thought, but there could be better... If he was doing it just for Stephen, it would be useless. He had to prove himself he could do this.

That, and the fact that the man has still not talked to him since he arrived. Karl tried not to think too much of it. He needed to focus on his future before anything else. 

He still loved Stephen, but there were things that mattered more. And if the man wasn’t going to make an effort to talk to him, well... so be it.

If he was going to be honest, as much as he loved reading, Karl did not feel creative enough to study creative writing. He wasn’t Stephen or Wong, he was... boring. Perhaps history would be a better choice. 

Karl held his head in his hands. How was he going to be able to prove to his family that he was able to take charge of his future if he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life? 

He’d have to look at other programs later, but, right now, Karl needed some fresh air. The walls of his house were closing in on him, and he was feeling far too trapped.

He grabbed his cost and his gloves, along with his wallet and keys, and headed downstairs. He could always grab a cab, or maybe just walk for a while until he reached the city. His father was out using the Benz, he always prefered driving in that one --

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother’s voice. He turned, hand still resting on the doorknob.

“Where are you going?” She asked in their native tongue from the living room, facing him. Or maybe she wasn’t, he wasn’t entirely sure, the room was so dark for some reason. 

“I’m going out to get some air. May go somewhere for dinner.”

“What have you been up to?”

Her voice sounded slurred, tired. She’s been drinking again. He wondered if she’s even worked at all today. “Research. For universities.”

She made a noncommittal noise and stood up, emerging from the shadows, wine glass still in her hand. God, she looked like a mess. Her makeup was smudged, her hair was unkempt -- she looked nothing like the high-brow woman who raised her. And she’d been crying, Karl had never seen her cry.

“Have you decided what you’re studying?"

Was that a trick question? Was he being interrogated? There was really no right answer. Karl felt a bead of swead fall from his temple, he hadn’t realized he was nervous. Maybe he never actually stopped being nervous. “I am looking into the... history programs in Cambridge, and the literature ones in New York. I am... undecided.”

“Of course you’re undecided. The moment we give you a bit of time on your own you think you can conquer the world. You think you can do anything now, right? The King of the world!” She let out a cruel laugh. “Don’t be so stupid, Karl. We are giving you everything you could need to be a perfect politician. Why throw that away for something so useless?”

“I’m guessing you won't give me any money if I study what I want.” 

She took a long sip of her wine, swaying in place like she always did when she was drunk. “Make the right the decision and I will allow you to be my heir, proud to be a Mordo.”

“Or what?” Karl gritted his teeth, he’d had enough of her mind games and cruelty. “You’ll disown me for not being a coward?”

She stopped moving and glared at him. “Are you calling your own mother a coward?”

He fell silent. Sara Mordo did not respond well to silence. 

The next thing he saw was a hundred pieces of shamed glass falling to the floor. She had thrown her wine glass against the wall beside him, missing him by a mere foot. Karl had no idea if she had been aiming for the wall -- or for him.

His mother had yelled at him before, but not like this. Never with a voice cracking with fury, never with so much hate in her voice. 

_ “ _ I gave  _ birth _ to you! I gave you  _ everything _ ! You are a selfish, ungrateful, insolent brat and you made my life  _ miserable _ ! I never wanted to have a child but I was forced to have  **_you_ ** _! _ ” 

Terrified, he looked away and tried to block out her words, but they refused to quiet down. His mother was yelling in unabashed fury, getting closer with every syllable. All Karl could do was hide his face are search for his keys. Where were his keys? Oh god, where were his keys?

“You are worthless to me! You will never amount to anything  _ he  _ did!”

The instant he found his keys, Karl ran out to the cold, open air. His mother's voice still yelling -- no -- screaming out to him from the doorframe. He wondered if she was wearing shoes. He wondered if she was so full of drunken hate that she would step on broken glass just to be this cruel.

“ _Get out!_ **_Get out of my house_**!"

Karl stepped into the car and drove off, not knowing where he was going, but he needed to leave, he needed to get out of here as fast as possible. Tears were running down his cheeks, a small piece of broken glass pressed against his clothes, almost digging into his skin, but he was so terrified he could barely breathe or think. He just drove down the city streets, the old statues and the bright lights staring down at him in judgement. 

He parked in the first spot he saw in the outskirts of the city, where there were less people and the concrete jungle turned back into hills and trees. Karl’s hands hurt from gripping the steering wheel to stop them from shaking.

It had never gotten this bad. He never thought it would ever get this bad.

She never loved him. He’d been trying to hard to change that, to get an inkling of what Stephen could get every single day. It had been useless from the start, and he wasted every single second since he was born trying to prove otherwise. 

Shaking hands reached down to the glove compartment, where his father kept his cigarettes and his lighter. Karl lit one up and took a long drag immediately, trying to calm himself. He coughed, but he continued smoking, hoping the smoke would swallow him whole.

He had always been so desperate for his mother’s love and acceptance when it was all worthless. He will never have a mother like Beverly, his family will never change. Karl Mordo was, and had always been, completely alone.

And now Stephen wasn’t talking to him like he promised. He  _ promised. _

Karl crushed the cigarette with his hand and banged his fists against the dashboard, over and over, until it hurt. 

“Fuck! Fuck!  _ Fuck! Fuck!  _ **_Fuck_ ** !”

He had been so naive. 

“Please, help me.” Karl cried out, feeling weak and drained of all willpower. He did even know who he was calling out for, but he needed _ someone _ . “Please, help me.  _ Please _ .”

Nothing happened. Karl didn't expect anything good to happen in the first place.

But Karl was done with crying. He was done with being used, manipulated and beaten. He was done being her pawn, her plaything, her source of shame.

Karl laughed as if he was going to go mad, closing his eyes and pressed his hands to his face. 

Krowler had died, and any semblance of sanity in his household had died with him. His mother was going to kill him. His mother was going to end up killing him.

Karl mindlessly drove off to a nearby hotel to stay for the night, until he felt safe enough to return. He needed to go back, he had one final thing to do. One final act before he left and finally felt free. He could take the beating, he could take the cruel words, he just needed to finally find a way to make Sara Mordo never lay another finger on him.

He needed to make his family disown him as soon as possible.

 

\---

 

He was still at the hotel. A nice one, the rooms were all white and clean, like a very high-end asylum. He may had stayed here once, years ago, he wasn’t sure. 

It’s been a long time since he’s been completely alone like this, with a room all for himself, without the fear of a maid interrupting him or his drunk grandfather coming through the door. He placed the  _ do not disturb _ sign for good measure, but Karl can’t help but think that something was going to come through that door, sooner or later. 

It was so simple to get away and have a night on his own. He could have stolen the family car years ago, just for a night out by himself. He had the money and the means to do it.

But he didn’t have the balls.

Karl curled up on his mattress, eyeing the untouched plate of room service breakfast he ordered an our ago. 

He never realized how much he’d gotten used to not sleeping alone. Parts of him could imagine the pillow against his back was Stephen, somehow, but the illusion left fast, and Karl realized that he needed to talk to him as soon as possible. 

Karl picked up his phone and dialed his boyfriend’s number, tired of this unwelcomed and cruel silence. He just wanted some reassurance. He just wanted love.

And he wanted to know for sure that Stephen hadn’t already forgotten him and moved on. He could already imagine what Christine looked like -- pale, blonde and pretty, classic American girl --- he could imagine the two of them kissing behind his back. 

He waited as the phone rang. Waited. Until he had to call a second time, already expecting the worse.

A groggy, tired voice eventually answered. “Hey, baby. It’s two am.”

The voice was an instant relief, almost making him melt. Karl could already feel his heart getting faster and it took him a moment to remember that he had to speak back. “Stephen. Oh, Stephen. I--”

The American interrupted him for a second. “Hey, could you skype me or something? International calls are real expensive, babe.”

“O-Oh, of course.”

He did was Stephen asked and just a minute later, he could see the man’s half lidded eyes and tousled hair falling over one of his eyes. Stephen pushed it away and smiled softly through the screen, Karl could only watch in wonder. It was the first time he actually ever used this feature on his phone. 

“Oh, Karl, you cut your hair.” On his phone’s screen, he watched at Stephen leaned back into his pillow and set the phone next to his face. He was shirtless.

No, he wasn’t going to think about that now.

Karl clenched his fists. “Why did you not call me?”

The man groaned. “Are we really going to do this now?”

“Yes.”

Stephen laughed and closed his eyes. “I was busy with moving back to my dorm and stuff. Then I just... forgot to send you anything. And school is getting harder, I got to stay at the top of my game.”

“Just one text would have been enough...”

“I’m sorry, I really am. I’ll text you more often, okay? Besides, you were making your way back to Romania. I didn’t know the time difference.”

Karl whimpered. “I thought you forgot about me. I thought you moved on or you didn’t like me anymore.”

At this, Stephen sat up and answered immediately, trying to calm him. “Oh no, baby. I just got preoccupied, don’t cry.”

Karl wanted to touch him so bad. To hold him. He nodded, “I miss you so much.”

“Me too.” Stephen widened his eyes. “Hey, is that your room? I’ve never seen it before. Looks fancy.”

“No, I stayed at a hotel.”

“Oh, fancier. Are you traveling?” Stephen asked with a smile in his voice.

It was maddening how oblivious the man could be sometimes. He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I was kicked out of my house.”

“Shit, Karl--” Stephen’s smile faltered. “Did they find out about us? Are you okay?”

“No, not yet. At least I don’t think so. My mother was drunk and angry and told me to leave. I took one of the cars and drove to a nearby hotel. I’m not sure how long I should stay.”

“Wait, how many cars do you have?” 

Karl sighed. “Stephen...”

“Sorry, sorry -- that’s not important.” Stephen said. “I’m... really sorry that happened to you. I don’t really know what to say. Ma or dad have never kicked me out of the house.” 

He had to hold his breath in order to remind his boyfriend that it wasn’t about him right now, but he didn’t want to argue. He’d had enough arguing. Karl shut off the video and put Stephen on speaker, something about seeing his face made Karl want to feel hopeless and nostalgic for his summer days. Listening gave the same feeling, but at least he could hide his face. 

The Romanian pressed his knees against his chest and sighed. “I’m not sure if I should go back home.”

Stephen sounded tired. “You’re gonna have to face them someday eventually l.”

“I know. I would rather gouge out my own eyes.”

"Now, now -- let’s leave that for the last resort.” Stephen laughed as if he had made a joke, it wasn’t funny. “Can’t you, like, call the police?”

“I would need proof. And a lawyer. At least, I think so... I never looked it up.” Karl huddled his body closer, covering himself in pillows. “My mother was right, I should have studied law.”

“Right...” Stephen said, trailing off. “Um, what are you gonna study, then?”

“I am undecided between history or literature.” 

He could  _ hear _ the smile in the man’s voice. “That suits you so well. I can totally see you as a history teacher or something like that.”

Karl perked up. “You think so?”

“I  _ know _ so.” 

“Thank you, Stephen. That means a lot.”

“Hey, I can be a charmer when I want to.” Stephen replied coincidently. “I hope you can talk to your family soon. And, if you ever want to really run away, my dorm room has a pretty comfortable twin mattress  _ and _ a store that sells instant noodles twenty-four-seven.”

Karl couldn’t help but scoff out a laugh. “That sounds nice, but I don’t want to be the doting house husband of a future doctor.”

Stephen made a small noise. “Husband?”

“I-I was joking. You know what I mean.”

Through the speaker of his phone, he heard a small laugh and some bed sheets rustling as the man moved. Karl found it soothing.

“Hey, Karl?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. You know that right? I’m real sorry for not calling. I promise I’ll do it more often.”

“I love you too. And yes, please do.” He felt so lovesick as he spoke. Perhaps he was. “I’m... I’m terrified of going back.”

“You have to.”

“I know... I wish I didn’t.”

After a bout of silence,  Stephen spoke up again. “I need to go back to sleep, gotta wake up in a few hours. Call me and tell me how it all goes?”

Karl nodded even if the man couldn’t see it. It was a habit. “Of course.”

“I love you so much, baby. Don’t forget that. Whatever happens, I’m there.” 

Karl wondered what it would be like to hear words like that from his family -- from his mother -- and suddenly couldn’t control the way his hands shook, how his lips started to quiver. He felt so weak and used, so bruised and battered. Stephen was just being kind, and no matter how long he had spent in America with the man, it only proved how little he was used to kindness. So much so that the smallest hint of it would make him weep.

He hid his voice, only barely, and took a sharp, shaking gasp before replying. “T-Thank you, I’ll talk to you soon.”

He ended the conversation before Stephen could say anything out of worry. He didn’t want any pity right now, he just wanted love. 

Karl threw the phone across the room in blind fury. He heard the glass shatter and did not bother checking if it still worked. It probably did, but he didn’t care. He was so confused, terrified, depressed and  _ angry  _ \-- he’d forgotten what it was like to feel all of these emotions at once for so long. How did he live like this?

Tears ran down his cheeks as he tried to calm himself, tried to breathe, but it was useless. He was finally,  _ finally _ , breaking down, and it wasn't pretty.

He needed to go back home and take a stand. He needed to come clean. Living like this was going to eat him from the inside out, it was going to suck away any life he had learned to live during the Summer. It was going to turn him miserable. It was going to kill him.

He just wanted to go back to Stephen and kiss him again. Karl just wanted a place where it was safe to kiss the other man. But he was thousands of miles away. He was still Bucharest. He was still near them. He was still right there.

He needed to get away.

He needed proof.

 

\---

 

There were probably better ways to spend the last few hours until he had to leave the hotel. Smoking and leaning on a balcony with the same clothes he’d been wearing for the past three days was probably one of the worst. Stephen would crack a joke, something along the lines that he was thankful Karl wasn’t doing heroin or anything worse. He... didn’t actually know a lot about what other kinds of drugs existed.

Karl threw the cigarette to the side, it was the fourth one today. When he lit the first one, he wondered what Stephen would say to him. Like an angel on his shoulder, scolding him for being dramatic and self-destructive. By the second one, he finally realized that the man wasn’t actually there and he wasn’t obligated to care about what he would or wouldn’t hypothetically say. If the man wouldn’t bother talking to him on a daily basis, why would he care if he was hurting his lungs?

Besides, he didn’t bring his phone charger, he hasn’t checked his phone in two days.

No, Karl didn’t care.

If his mother was turning him suicidal, then the grey, old stone buildings of Bucharest were turning him into the cynical, posh piece of shit that Stephen had met at the beginning of the Summer.

He leaned his head over the bars of the balcony, looking down as the cars and people passed. The balcony wasn’t high enough to give him an instant, painless death. Karl didn’t want to die in pain, nor did he want to die after running away from home. His parents would bury him as a coward. If Karl were to die, he wanted to do it after proving something.

Stephen was right, he was going to have to come out.

Moving away to study a somewhat respectable field in the humanities wasn’t as much of a slap in the face to his mother as he wanted it to be. He could still make money, his mother could still brag about him. Karl didn’t want to be used as a betting chip anymore, as a pawn for his mother’s dinner parties or charity balls. He didn’t want them to even acknowledge his existance anymore -- for them to even remember they had a son. Running away would just make them miss him, somewhat. Karl didn’t want to be missed. 

Karl needed to cut all ties before it was too soon, and being gay was just shameful enough to do just that. 

If that failed, he could just run away to America like a coward and become a farmer. Or teach German. Or become a stripper. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knocking door. Karl huffed, cursing the hotel workers who could not read a simple sign. He lit off his cigarette against the wall and threw it to the trash before unlocking the door. 

As he opened it, Karl saw two policemen watching him intently. He froze, suddenly wondering why he didn’t consider that his family would’ve sent someone looking for him. Karl opened the door entirely, standing up straight and speaking in his native tongue. “Um, hello. How may I help you?”

The policeman spoke in a calm yet stern voice. “Mister Mordo, your family has been worried sick about you.”

Karl couldn’t help but scoff at this.

The other officer moved past him and entered the room, rummaging through his bed, the cabinets, everywhere. Karl rose an eyebrow. “W-What is he doing?”

“Making sure you weren’t up to anything illegal.” He said, deadpan. “You’re going to have to come with us.”

Karl shook his head. “I don’t want to come back.”

The officer moved closer, frowning now. “We have direct orders from your mother to send you back as soon as possible. You’re a minor, you have to go back to your home.”

His mother must have lied about his age. The policemen probably did not bother enough to double check her information. Crossing a Mordo would be an unwise decision -- anyone familiar with the country's politics would know that.

He took a step forward, trying not to show his fear to the cop. ”I’m not safe in that house! They hurt me! My mother is cruel!”

The policeman’s frowns deepened. “What did they do?”

Karl fell silent, the words refused to come out.

The other officer stopped looking through his things and yelled out  _ all clear _ to the other man. The one in front of him continued speaking. “One more time, you’re going to have to come with us, or we’ll have to take you by force.”

Not like this. Not like this.

In a rushed, sudden decision he would have never made before the Summer, Karl shoved the man aside and ran out the door, faster than he’d ever ran in his life. 

He heard distant shouts of the two men barking order to him, yelling at him to stop and halt, but Karl did not listen. He took the door down the stairs, running down as fast as he could, hearing scattered steps of the policemen rushing behind him. 

Karl was panting now, feeling weak from not having walked like this in so long. Christ, he didn’t think this through at all. How could he be so stupid. He’d left his phone, his wallet... his keys! What the hell was he doing!?

He couldn’t stop now, he kept running until he saw the last few steps. It wasn’t until he had only two left that he felt his ankle twist in the wrong way. 

Karl fell to the floor on his side as the unbearable pain in his ankle and the sides of his arm coursed through his body.  _ Fuck. Fuck.  _ **_Fuck._ **

The sounds of the policemen’s steps were getting closer. He couldn’t stay like this, he just couldn’t.

With a burst of adrenaline, Karl stood up and limped as fast as he could into the hotel lobby. People were staring at him, asking him if he was alright, both from locals and tourists alike. He did not answer, he kept walking as fast as he could.

It wasn’t enough.

The last thing he knew was that he was tackled to the ground by both of the larger, older men, and Karl felt nothing but the aching, dreadful pain in his ankle and on the bruises forming on his arm before he let out a loud cry. 

It was too much. He couldn’t control anything, from the way he shouted to the tears streaming down his face. “Please, stop!  _ Stop _ ! I’ll go with you!  _ I’ll go! _ ”

The men got off and pulled him up. Karl could not stand properly and had to lean against one of the men in order to walk. He sniffed, trying his hardest not to weep, and hid his face. 

Too many eyes were on him, too many people were seeing exactly what they would expect from someone like him. He was wearing old clothes with a limp, weak body and an unshaven face, his eyes were decorated with dark circles. He looked like a criminal, or a drug addict. All of the eyes that had been formerly showing worry now only showed disdain or shame. Karl felt the same way about himself.

With little effort, the policemen moved the young man into the back of their car, his hands cuffed behind his back and trembling in fear. He’d never been behind a police car, he never expected it to  _ this  _ terrifying and embarrassing, but none of them spoke as he cried. 

It wasn’t until the car reached his house that he was uncuffed. It didn’t make the situation any better as he had to be held by one of the men in order to move up the stairs. He’d never felt so humiliated in his life.

After a few doorbells, the door opened and he was greeted by his mother. It took her half a second notice that he was there, as if she was remembering why the police would be there in the first place. As she noticed him, Sara widened her eyes and hugged him.

Karl felt frozen against her grasp. She smelled of scotch. 

“Oh,  _ lue pui meu _ ! You’re safe! Oh, we’ve been looking all over for you.”

He did not know how the woman could make her voice sound so earnest yet so fake at the same time. Karl said nothing.

Behind him, he heard the policemen speak. “He was in a hotel, just as you said. He tried to run but we managed to get him. We found nothing in his room except for this, we believe it belongs to him.”

He watched as his mother took his phone, wallet and keys in one hand as she stroked his hair with the other. As much as he hated it, it felt soothing.

“Thank you so much, officers.” She answered, voice soft and kind. “We cannot repay you enough. I will take the rest from here.”

With a few more shared words that Karl did not bother listening to, the policemen left and his mother closed the front door, letting go of her son right after.

Karl felt a strong slap across his face. He stumbled back, a sharp pain on his cheek and a ache on his left ankle as he placed a hand against the wall for support. Karl kept himself stone faced, clenching his fist.

“How dare you embarrass me like this?! Now all the neighbors saw you dragged into the house by the police! What will they think?”

He did not answer to her yelling. Karl hid his face away from her and stepped back. 

When he glanced to the side, he saw his father staring in silence. They met eyes, the older man’s face was... unreadable. 

"What happened to you?!” She gestured at his foot in an exasperated  voice. 

Karl said nothing.

“Answer me when I ask you something!” She yelled again.

“I hurt my ankle...” Karl paused. 

She scoffed. “Before or while you tried to run from the police?”

He gritted his teeth. “...I hurt it while I was running from the police you sent to my room.”

He finally heard his father move. The man held his arm and helped him walk to a nearby chair, sheepishly asking him to sit down. Karl obliged in silence, his entire body was aching. Somehow, his foot hurt more than before. He wondered if he could even walk. He wish Stephen was here to help him. 

His mother walked passed them to the dining room table he sat next to. She served herself a drink from large, black, glass bottle of wine and drank half of it before she spoke. “I knew America was a bad influence on you. First you go disrespecting our wishes, making friends with  _ punks  _ and idiots. I knew it was a bad idea letting you choose. We should have set you to Nepal.”

Karl looked down and remembered the talk he had with Stephen about running away to Kathmandu. He wondered what would have happened if he had said yes. 

“Why are you smiling?!” 

He hid his face again, Karl hadn’t noticed. “I-It’s nothing.”

She walked over and grabbed his chin with her free hand. “Do  **_not_ ** laugh when I’m talking to you, you little shit!”

It earned him another slap -- Karl has had enough throughout his lifetime for it not to shock him anymore -- it simply hurt, but the pain was not unfamiliar. 

“What. Were. You. Thinking. About?” She enunciated every word carefully, speaking so slowly and close to his face that he could feel a bit of spit land on his chin. 

“A joke someone told me about Nepal. Nothing more.” Karl answered quickly.

Sara let go of his chin with a shove to his face. Karl could feel his heart beating against his chest. She seemed calmer all of the sudden, her face unreadable. It scared Karl more than when she was yelling at him. 

“Tell me the joke, then.”

He stammered. “Um, what?”

“Tell it to me. I would love a laugh.”

The young man panicked. He wasn’t as funny as Stephen, or clever, he couldn’t come up with a pun or a joke out of the blue. “You had to be there, mamă. It was more of a... situational thing. Stephen, the friend I made in America, had an inside joke about it.”

“Describe the situation, then.”

He winced. “Why?”

“Because I find it hard to believe that you actually made a friend.” She took a sip of her drink. “Friends are useless, allies are more important. When you grow older, you find out the difference very quickly.”

His life could have been very different if his mother allowed him to have friend. If she allowed herself to have friends.

“He’s a nice person.” Karl mumbled, looking down, tired of his mother’s bullying. 

“Speak up.”

“I said he’s a nice person. And he is my friend.  He’s kind and smart and taught me so much about music and medicine.” Karl said, falling silent right afterwards after realized how enthralled by the man he sounded. “Yeah, he’s cool. He’s just my friend. My first best friend.”

“That’s wonderful, Karl.” His mother said without any hint of sincerity in her voice. “Because you are not speaking to him again.”

“What?”

“I won’t let that American charm you any longer. He’s making you into a fool.” She stepped closer to him. “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know how to check your messages when I confiscated your phone?”

“No.” Karl shifted on his seat, trying to stand up, but the mere act of trying to move his leg was unbearable. “No, you can’t do this.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I can. He is a bed influence and I don’t like it. You will  _ not _ tell me what I can and cannot do.”

“You can’t fucking do this--”

“Language, Karl.”

“You can’t keep controlling every single thing I do. You aren’t him, you  _ can’t _ \--” He was sobbing. He felt like this day has lasted an eternity, breaking him into a million pieces. “You can’t. You  _ can’t.” _

He did not know what his mother looked like at this mother. Perhaps she was laughing, or staring at her son stoically. Perhaps she actually felt sorry for him. “Compose yourself, Karl.”

“Please, he’s all I have.”

He wished he’d choked on his words before he’d spoken. He could feel his mother’s eyes boring into him, going past all his defenses and seeing through his lies. “What do you mean?”

Karl sniffed, tears still tearing down his cheeks, trying to choose his words carefully. “I love him, mamâ.”

“No. You don’t. Don’t be disgusting, Karl.” 

Her glass was empty now but her lips ghosted against the rim of the glass, lipstick staining the outside of it. Karl had no idea what she was thinking. He didn’t want to know.

“Please, please...” The young Romanian sobbed. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand how such a fine young man could be turned a rebellious idiot who doesn’t know his place.” She was drunk. Karl could smell the alcohol in her clothes, in her breath that was only a few inches away as she bent to loom over him. “You are no son of mine.”

He didn’t think he’d ever felt this angry. Not even when Nic hurt Stephen. Not even when he saw Krowler hurting his mother, what was left of her, all those years ago. For a moment, Karl thought he was going to go mad, but things have never been so perfectly clear. 

He wanted to wrap his hands around her neck.

“You are a pathetic excuse for your father.” Karl spat out from his chair. He could see the rage forming in her body, threatening to crush her wine glass with just one hand.

**“** Stop talking. Stop right now.”

He couldn’t, not now. Not when he could fight back. “You will never amount to anything he was. I was terrified of him, I am not scared of you.”

The pain came after he was hit. Both of his cheeks must be red and bruised, possibly cut open with the blunt force of the rings on her fingers. Her eyes were wide open, hand still raised and shaking near her head. Karl smiled back at her.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You don’t know anything about me. Your own son.” Karl snarled. “Your biggest mistake was making me hate you.”

“Stop!”

“You think I’m your puppet, destined to be like you, don’t you?” Karl used every last bit of willpower to stand up despite the pain. He smiled as he spoke, knowing that there was no way his mother could find another way to hurt him. “I’m nothing like you! I will never be like you! I’m going to study far away from you and I will never see you again.”

She did not yell out this time, only watched in silent fury as she raised her hand again -- it was caught by her husband, holding her back before she could strike. “Sara, please--”

Karl glared. “And you... you’re a coward. You’ve watched her and Krowler beat me for years and you did nothing. You’re as cruel as they are. You’re a fucking coward, Nikolai.”

They all waited, in silence, to see what his reaction would be. Nikolai  _ never  _ intervened. He never said a word about anything. 

If there was anything Karl expected, it wasn’t this.

Being slapped in the face was one thing -- it was a sharp, instant pain that could last hours and even days. It served as a reminder of his actions, all bruises did. They were supposed to teach him a lesson, to put him in his place. Those bruises were hard to hide, or they were the sort that were common enough that no one would ask anything. Bruises like those never really meant to hurt, they were just a reaction, the worst kind, the sort that you would never forget. 

A glass being shattered to his face, however, was a completely new sensation. He did not expect the glass to go everywhere on his face and his body, he didn’t expect it to go under skin and make him bleed. His face was covered crimson, like something out of a horror movie, like something out of a nightmare he was awake for. He held his hand to his face in shock, his hand now warm and wet and shaking.

His father loomed over him with the glass handle in his hand, but all Karl saw was a blur before he felt something blunt hit the back of his head. Something large, a blunt force hitting him enough to make him fall on the floor, frozen in place, his eyes closing more and more by the second.

Before he fell unconscious, Karl’s mind raced.

He wondered what he had done to make his mother hate him so much. Before his confrontation, before the Summer -- back when he was quiet and good. Back when he wasn’t so  _ angry.  _ He’d loved her, he’d loved her so much. It was stupid of him to think she would return the favor.

He thought of Stephen, he thought of his dog he never met. He thought of the dead goats and chickens and wondered if they were a bad omen. 

He thought of falling and of the open sea.

The last thing Karl saw was the faded image of his mother's knees in front of him. She was kneeling. Was she asking for forgiveness? Was she celebrating this?

The blood coming from his face felt like some sort of penance.    
  
It all turned to black, anyway.

  
  


\---

 

When he woke up, he only saw white.

For a moment, he thought he was back in America, in his room at Stephen’s farm, the one with white walls and furniture that had a window right next to the bed where the breeze would come right in, always invited, making him feel better from the Summer heat. 

It was a nice thought, no matter how stupid and fanciful it felt like, but it wasn’t real. He had enough ache in his body to prove it.

His eyes adjusted a second later and he realized he was in a hospital. The smell of overly clean and sterile surfaces overtook his nose, and all he could hear was the muffled beep of a monitor and something -- someone -- saying words he couldn’t quite catch. He turned his eyes toward them, it was a nurse, and she was saying something to him.

Karl shook his head and groaned, feeling an ache all over his body and the sting of new wounds stitched closed over his face. 

When he tried to move his hands to touch his face, he realized they were both chained to the bed.

He managed to gether that there were bandages scattered across his head, some larger than others, all hurting with even the slightest movement of his face. The words the nurse was trying to say to him were still muffled, but slowly making sense the more she spoke. It was in Romanian.

“--like some water? I can bring you some.”

Karl nodded slowly, wincing. Even his neck ached, as did his back -- he only remembered being hit in the face by his family and tackled by guards. Where did all this pain come from?

The nurse came back with a cup of water and helped him drink it, holding his head for support. It felt like the worse beating possible, Karl had never felt this weak before. He leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, allowing it to wash over his body, not fighting the pain anymore. He was done with fighting if this was what it would bring him.

(It was a lie. His fury was as alive as ever, brewing in his heart, ready to pounce. If he had the strength, he would scream.)

A pale man dressed in a white laboratory coat, probably his doctor, came over and sat by him. Karl glanced, watching him look over some files before he said anything, and wondered how many patients he’d seen in his lifetime that were beaten by their parents like this. Curiously, another person entered the room, another doctor, but wearing more casual clothes underneath. Karl did not recognize her. 

The first doctor spoke up first, introducing himself as Doctor Ciubanu. “How are you feeling, Mister Mordo?”

Karl clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain that came with it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Um -- Is Karl alright with you?”

“...It is fine.” He paused. “How the hell do you think I feel? I feel like I was thrown off the side of a mountain. I feel like I was run over by a truck. Or perhaps hit with a fucking wine glass over my  _ face _ .”

The second doctor spoke patiently, in a trained soft voice. “We are not here to hurt you or offend you, Karl. We just want to know about your well being. I understand your anger--”

“You understand  _ nothing _ .” He spat.

“--but there is no need to direct it at us.”

Ah, she must be some sort of therapist or hospital psychologist. Karl closed his eyes and breathed, the woman had a point, as infuriating as it was. “How long was I out?”

Doctor Ciubanu spoke again. “You were out for fifteen hours.”

“Why am I tied to the bed?”

“You were having violent dreams, talking in your sleep in ways that frightened the other patients, we had calm you down twice during the night with a sedative.” Said the second doctor, her face unimpressed. “It was for your own protection and the protection of others.”

The last time he’d been bound like this, he was being held captive with a gun to his head. Karl almost laughed at the irony -- oh, how the wheels had turned.

“What happened... to my face?”

“Multiple pieces of glass imbued in your skin. We gather than you must have fallen on your face as you fell unconscious, as they were dangerously deep. You are lucky they did not pass through bone, or get into your eyes, but we had to give you three separate sets of stitches.”

He almost tugged at his wrists again, desperate to touch the bandages or see himself in the mirror somehow. He always got bruises from his beating, never scars like these, how was he supposed to hide them now? He was going to look used and broken. How would Stephen react?

Karl ignored the stinging in his eyes. “My parents did this to me. My mother, she--” He couldn’t bring himself to speak of it, for some reason. “My father...”

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk.”

He almost  _ snarled. _ “Were they arrested?”

“Your mother called the hospital but provided inconclusive reports on how you ended up with your wounds. We... suspected that is was domestic abuse, but could do nothing without your confirmation.”

“What about my father?”

They both fell silent, glancing at each other as if they were trying to decide who spoke first. “He’s dead. Suicide. Just this morning.”

Karl wasn’t sure how to react, considering the man had smashed glassed to his face. He laughed in disbelief. “How?”

Doctor Ciubanu watched with unease. “He... shot himself.”

Karl laughed harder, he must’ve looked mad. He must’ve looked fucking insane, but he simply couldn’t believe it. What a coward. What a miserable, weak, coward. The fact that his mother has to face this all alone made it all the more sweeter. 

He composed himself before he was thrown into the psych ward. 

The second doctor spoke up again. “Does this please you, Karl?”

“You could say that.”

With a nod to them both, Ciubanu excused himself and left the area and closed the door behind him. This must be his psych evaluation then. Karl sighed as the therapist sat beside him. “Why does your father’s death please you?”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

The doctor did not react to his words. “Why does your father’s suicide make you laugh?”

“...Because he had it coming. What do they call it? Karma. It was his destiny to die from guilt, or to avoid his rightful punishment.” Karl frowned. “The bill came due.”

“Rightful punishment? From God?”

“From the universe.” The young man explained. “And his death finally left my mother all alone in the world, without anyone else to tolerate her. She will surely go mad.”

“Did she beat you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you hate her for it?”

“With every fiber of my being.”

The doctor paused. “I understand that, as a victim of abuse, resentment and hatred towards those who hurt you is normal. Karl, you must not let it consume you.”

Karl moved forward, his back screaming in pain, and felt guilty as he nodded. The doctor was clearly trying to help, but all his words fell on deaf ears. It was too late for Karl not to feel anything but hate. Loathing. Fury. 

“I won’t. I promise. I just want for her to get what she deserves.”

“Is that death?”

“That is not for me to decide.”

He did not know if the therapist believed anything he said, but she simply nodded and leaned back into her chair, watching him with a calculated gaze. 

“However, I wouldn’t mind being sure that she gets reprimanded with the fullest extend of the law.”

“Do you want to press charges against her?”

Karl grinned, showing teeth. “Yes.”

She did not smile back, but part of him could tell she approved of his choice. For once in so long, he could barely remember that Stephen existed. He was in Romania, beaten and bruised, but he was getting his revenge. For once, Karl tapped into his family roots, and allowed himself to be cruel. He was finally, finally getting what he deserved, and he could leave this country for good and never look back. Any revenge he had would be sweeter than he ever dreamed. 

  
His bills had been paid. It was time for him to live.


	15. epilogue: part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months pass, and nothing is the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the super long wait! and sorry that isn't isn't actually the finale... the chapter ended up being so long that i divided it into two parts. the final part is planned but not written out yet., but i hope to finish and post it before the end of the year.
> 
> if you could, please lea ve a comment and tell me what you think! this was a very difficult chapter to write (you will see why) and i want to know ur thoughts! writing this fic has been an incredible journey for me :)
> 
> WARNINGS: side character death, drowning, assault, smoking, boys being bad at emotions

 

SIX MONTHS LATER

 

Karl will never get used to living in London.

The city looks and smells the same as Bucharest. Old, stone buildings and roads constantly filled with cars and people yelling at each other. The rich live only a few blocks away from the poor, silently hating each other’s existence, and Karl feels as if he’s right in the middle of the feud as his resentment for the rich grows, but he goes to Cambridge on a scholarship and lives on a nice apartment in a nice place in the city that he rents with his inheritance money. He’s too well off to be truly angry. 

Besides the look of the city, Karl feels awestruck every day by the sort of things he sees that make him feel like Romania is a few decades in the past. He suddenly isn’t the only black student in his place of study, nor does he feel like the only one in the entire city. Karl has no idea how to approach them and not seem like a lunatic from how excited he is just to talk to someone who looks like him. There was one student in one of his classed who asked him for his notes, Karl stuttered through all his words the entire time they spoke, earning him an odd look from the other student as they exchanged emails. All he could do was hope she did not think he was flirting.

He sees gay couples hold hand and kiss right on the middle of the sidewalk, or in the train, and it takes all of Karl’s willpower not to stare openly. He doesn’t want them to think that it’s because of disgust, so he simply glances in silence, trying to ignore the jealousy that he’s buried deep in his gut. 

He takes the same route back from uni, stops at his martial arts classes on weekdays, then heads back to his apartment. Or _ flat _ , as his tenant calls it. Karl likes her -- she’s a kind, bald woman that likes to drink tea and her house always smells of some sort of incense -- she reminds him of Stephen’s mother, only quieter and more reserved. He still does not know her name. 

Apart from the change in scenery, Karl feels that his life had barely changed.

He still has a routine he follows to the letter, a route he walks through everyday, and extracurricular classes that he decided to take on his own accord because the very thought of  _ not  _ having them made him uncomfortable. It was weak, and boring. His mother’s incarceration had freed him of nothing. Maybe he was simply hardwired this way. From all the movies he saw and books he read, Karl thought gay men were supposed to be fun and have dozens of friends. Karl has lived in this city for six months and he didn’t even know his tenant’s name.

Karl has lived in this city for six months and he’s talked to Stephen three times. Or maybe twice, Karl wasn’t even sure anymore.

Their last conversation had been last month. They spoke about how they were doing in their studies and how Stephen’s family was. The answer to both had been “good” or “fine”. There were no stories to tell, no jokes to say, no music to listen to. It was so different from the last summer, it felt as if they had aged so much since then. Things were different, or maybe it was just the fact that they had returned to reality. They both had hung up with simple goodbye, Karl stared at the phone a while afterwards, wondering if he should call again and say something else, or at least call him again the next day. He had done neither.

Once again, Karl felt all alone. He doubts Stephen could ever feel the same, he’s good at making friends and talking to anyone who would hear him. He has the faintest idea on how to make friends, or even talk to people. 

He looked out his window as he lighted a cigarette, allowing the smoke to go outside. He knew it was terrible for him, and that Stephen would hate it if he found out what he was doing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Besides, he was nineteen, wasn’t he supposed to be self-destructive?

God, he needed to get out of this  _ flat _ .

Karl took his phone and left the building, running like the stairs as if he knew where he was going. He needs some air, something to distract him from the fact that he has two different a research papers to finish, essays to write, and articles to read. Part of him wonders why he chose to double major in the first place. Maybe it was just to prove a point. But to who?

He walks down the wet sidewalks of London as the rain pours down like it always done, ignoring it like everyone else in the city chooses to ignore it and go about their night. The nicer streets filled with houses eventually turn to bars and restaurants, clubs and shops, until he finds one place that has always caught his eye when he walks through this particular place. Karl never had the balls to go until now. He shows his ID to the guard in front, who lets him in with a huff. 

Once he goes in, all Karl hears is loud music that deafens anything else. Red and blue lights that move to the song playing from the speakers make it seem like everything is moving in slow motion. Bodies rock against each other, people kiss and talk and dance to the popular song that probably plays a dozen times a day on the radio. It’s electrifying, Karl feels his heart beat faster to the bass in the song, completely entranced, until someone else who goes through the door shoves him to the side, saying something in English that’s probably mean but he can’t understand a word.

Karl realizes just then that he has no idea what one is supposed to do at a gay bar when they’re alone. And not single.

Sort of.

He walks forward past the dance floor, eyes darting to the dancing, sweaty bodies filling most of the area of the small club. He can hear voices now, people speaking to each other but no words are directed at him. 

Karl wonders what Stephen would do in this situation, what he’s probably doing right now. He imagines he’d be able to find someone to dance with in minutes, grinding behind him and asking them to go back home with him. He imagines him dancing with a woman, for some reason -- someone blonde, pretty and a bit younger than him -- and suddenly Karl feels even angrier than he was before.

His hands are shaking beside him, and he feels so plain and boring compared to everyone else. They’re dressed in tight clothes with jewelry or makeup making them seen more attractive. Karl is wearing jeans and a button up shirt. He doubts anyone would flirt with him even if he tried to find someone to sleep with. 

He should’ve done with Stephen. Scratch that, he should’ve done this on his own. Karl could have run away from home the second he turned sixteen and he would have rebelled for  _ real  _ for once in his life. He could’ve found love or sex or had his heart broken when everyone else in his class was trying to do the same. He could’ve been happier. He could’ve been brave. 

Fuck, he needs a drink. 

Karl heads for the bar and takes a seat. He orders the first drink he sees on the menu, it sounds fruity and strong, which is just what he needed right now. The bartender takes too long, adding leaves and shit that Karl didn’t particularly care for in his drink, but if it costs ten pounds, he assumes it better be worth it. 

Once he gets his drink, Karl downs half of it in one gulp, and already feels the strength of the ten quid alcohol inside of him. Christ.

He only barely hears the man beside him laugh, Karl hadn’t noticed him until now.

“I was going to buy you a drink, but you seem to have more expensive taste.” The man teases. His voice is deep and has a heavy accent that Karl can’t quite place. European, definitely not English.

Karl doesn’t say anything in response.

The man speaks again, his voice closer. He must have moved to the seat beside him, but Karl is focused on the wall behind the bar. “What are you running away from?”

Karl finally looks at him, properly. He has high cheekbones and pale eyes that form crows feet when he smiles. His teeth are sharp, it reminds him of a shark, and he is older. Much older, probably in his forties. 

He looks hungry. 

His cheekbones remind him of Stephen. Karl wonders if he has a type.

“What do you mean?”

“Men your age usually head straight for the dance floor, or to the bathrooms to fuck a stranger they just met minutes before. When a young man goes straight for the bar and downs a drink like he hasn’t seen water in days, there’s usually something troubling them.”

Karl takes another sip of his drink. “Are those the ones you talk to? The ones who are young, drunk and troubled?”

The man grins. “Those are usually the easiest.”

His voice smells like alcohol, his own probably does too. Karl huffs, “Whatever you are looking for, you won’t find it with me.”

“No, I don’t suspect I will.”

Karl glances down and sees a glimmer in the man’s hand. He thinks it’s a ring, and can’t help but smirk at the wooden counter. “You’re running away too, aren’t you?”

“Why would a man my age be here if I’m not?”

Karl leans further, his head cloudy and heavy. “Because he’s looking for young men to fuck.”

The stranger in front of him lets out a knowing laugh. “You don’t sound English. Where are you from?” He’s deflecting the question.

“Romania.”

“Hm, never slept with a Romanian before.” 

Karl crosses his arms. “You won’t.”

The man with the sharp teeth gives him an unconvincing noise. 

“What about you?”

“I am Danish.”

“No, what are you running away from?”

He pauses and looks at the glass in front of him. It looks like whiskey, or scotch. Karl can’t tell the difference right now. “Marriage problems.”

Karl cannot help but laugh. “Funny. I’m running from relationship problems.”

“What sort?”

“My boyfriend hasn’t spoken to me in a month.” Karl doesn’t understand why he keeps talking, this is none of the man’s business, but he’s too filled with alcohol, and he’s smiling as he speaks. “He’s in America, and he’s too busy becoming a doctor to even send me a fucking text. I wonder if he still even remembers me.”

“Why don’t you try to call him first?” The man asks, as if he hasn’t been asking himself that very question for weeks now. 

“Because I’m stubborn and I want to wait to see if he gives a shit.”

The older man laughs again, Karl can’t help but laugh along. 

Karl moves forward to finish what’s left of his drink. He even downs the leaves at the end, probably all mint, grimacing at the taste. 

Something touches his temple. Calloused hands, wearing a ring. Karl flinches, not expecting it, and the man in front of him pulls back, watching intently.

He was touching his scars. For just a few moments, Karl almost forgot they existed. Almost. 

Karl feels his eyelids drop and leans into the man’s hand. He doesn’t understand why, he shouldn’t be doing this at all, but the man’s touch feels nice. Warm. It almost reminds him off --

“Do they hurt?”

Karl pauses for a moment, wondering what he should and shouldn’t say. His mouth is quicker than his thoughts, and before he can even think why he’s letting the man touch the scars on his face, he’s speaking again. “Sometimes. I try not to think about it.” The fingers drag down until they’re touching his cheek. Holding it. “My boyfriend doesn’t know I have them. I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I think he’ll find them ugly.”

“What’s your name?”

He should use a fake name, it doesn’t feel safe to use his real one. “Karl.”  _ Damn it. _

“Well, Karl, I think you are still beautiful.”

He feels like he’s melting. Is he melting? His skin feels fine, besides the goosebumps. “He used to call me that. Back when he talked.”

“I think your boyfriend is very stupid if he’s ignoring you. If I were him, I would call you everyday just to know what sort of sounds I could hear you make.”

Karl whimpered and regretted it immediately. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Kae.”

Kae.  _ Kae.  _ Sounds like a fake name. He wonders if he uses it on all the men he tries to fuck, or if this is just his name for the night. It sounds so like his own. 

Kae grins again, bearing teeth, looking at him just like Stephen does before a kiss. Except Karl doesn't get one, but he does feel the hand on his face move lower and take his own. “Karl, would you like to dance?”

“I don’t know how.”

“Why don’t we just skip that and go to my house instead?”

Karl shook his head. “I told you that you aren’t going to fuck me.”

“Then what exactly are you looking for here, Karl?”

He fell silent again, embarrassed, but didn’t move away.

He spoke again, ignoring all the voices in his head telling him to stop, run, and go back home as soon as possible. He’s had enough of listening to that voice. 

“Okay.”

The man has not stopped smiling this entire time he pays his tab. 

Kae walks beside him with a hand on his waist, leading him down the stairs to the street, helping him keep his balance. The hand is just as large as Stephen, though not as soft, he knows this because Kae holds his hand as they wait for a cab. It’s the first time he’s held another man’s hand like this, out in the open. Karl wonders why other people might think, apart from the fact that he’s a poof. He wonders if other people think he’s a prostitute. He wonders if Kae is a prostitute. Oh god, how much to prostitutes cost? He doesn’t know if he brought enough cash for that.

A cab eventually stops for them and the first thing Karl feels once he gets inside is that now both of Kae’s hands are on him, sneaking underneath his shirt and grabbing at his thighs. Karl hides his face and doesn’t know how to feel apart from the fact that he knows this is bad. He knows this is a mistake, probably the worst he’s made since he moved to London.

Karl feels a kiss to his neck, one that’s a bit too rough and will definitely leave a mark. He doesn’t like it. 

“Stop.”

The older man doesn’t.

“Stop. Stop. I can’t do this.” Karl pushes him against the car door, making sure they are at arm's length. “I’m sorry. I can’t--”

He doesn’t finish whatever he was saying, not that he knows what it was going to be, anyway. He throws a ten pound bill to the cab driver and walks out into the road to the sidewalk. A car honks at him, someone yells out. Karl doesn’t stop.

He hears footsteps, quick ones, running towards him. A hand grabs his arm and pulls him back, Karl almost stumbles and falls. 

“Karl, wait. Where are you going?”

He tries to pull away but it doesn’t work. The grip on his arm gets stronger. “I can’t do this. I can’t cheat on him. You’re going to have to find someone else for you, Kae.”

Kae laughs, it sounds cruel. “You cheated on him the instant you said  _ okay  _ back in the bar. Why not finish the deed? What more harm could you do? It is your conscious that will be troubled, not mine.”

“Let go of me.”

Kae walked closer and kept speaking, his mouth smelled of whiskey. So that’s what he was drinking. “You’re already all alone, Karl. This is probably the only sort of chances you’ll get now that your boyfriend’s left you. An old, drunk man in a bar trying to fuck you because no one else wants to sleep with a scarred, posh looking fuck--”

The fists hits his face before he can finish that sentence and say whatever slur he intended on scared. Karl runs before the man has even hit the ground, and realizes that this is the first time since Nic that he’s been able use his black belt to the test. 

Karl runs until he sees another cab, trying to politely make himself throw up before he enters the black car. He does, and it feels disgusting. The driver hands him a napkin and asks him if he’s had a rough night. Karl almost laughs if it weren’t so fucking on the nose. 

The drive isn’t far, but it feels like hours as his head aches where his scars are and he can still feel the older man’s fingertips on his skin, as if they were still there, trying to grab him. 

He can’t believe he allowed himself to get dragged along with a man like  _ that _ . How stupid can he be? He was raised better than this, to at least have some common sense.

Now that he thinks about, he wasn’t.

Karl opens the lock to his door after four attempts, scared that he’ll wake up his landlady and he’ll see him in this state and kick him out, or scold him. 

He slams the door shut behind him.

God, his knuckles hurt. It’s been awhile since he’s has thrown a real punch. 

He ends up draped over the sofa, still wearing the clothes that reek of alcohol and tobacco. It felt like a self punishment. 

His mother would laugh at him.

So would Stephen.

Karl doesn’t cry. He already did enough of that during his first few weeks in London. Hell, his first three months. He simply lays there, begging his body to get some sleep.

When he does, Karl dreams of shattering glass.

  
  


\---

 

In his defense, Stephen thought that things weren’t going to get difficult until he entered medical school. His first year had made him way too sure of himself, and his ego was given a good stroke, because did not expect the first half of his second year in general to be such a pain. Not even his photographic memory can save him now, not if he has too many things to try to memorize.

Stephen adores it.

He loves the rush, loves the caffeine high of crunching out a paper at two in the morning and being able to drive out into the city and see the sunrise at dawn through the skyscrapers. He loves being able to have someone to talk to all the time, or someone to drink with, or just a place to go to. Sure, everything is more difficult, and all of the other med students have just as little time as he does, but they manage to find a sliver of an hour that they can make memorable. He still tries to go to get togethers or parties, still tries to celebrate good grades and call his mom whenever he can, but he’s focusing on his studies and himself mostly. It’s like living twice as fast while living back is Nebraska is like waiting for a pot to boil when the stove’s not turned on.

He passes his first year with all straight A’s. If Stephen wants to complete his goal of getting his MD, PhD and all the other diplomas he can hang up on an office wall in less than three years, once he starts actual practice on people, then he’s going to have to kick his ass into high gear and get even better than straight A’s. He needs to be perfect, he needs to be the best of the bunch, and the best in the entire damn college. 

He likes to think he already is.

Christine is finally talking to him again. After he came back from home, he told her all about Karl and the incredible summer he had. ( _ Fuck _ , he should call him.) He supposes that she calmed down after realizing that he fucked a guy after her and not some hotter girl. Not to mention that he thinks she has her eyes on a cute, tan girl from the nursing school. He thinks her name is Claire, he isn’t sure. Either way, she looks like she’s back to being her studying partner and everything is back to normal between the two of them. 

She’s going to study to be a doctor too, actually. Stephen finally talked her out of just being a nurse. She has a lot of potential, way more than she gives herself credit for. Sure, she won’t finish as quickly as he will, obviously, but she’s better than most of the idiots in their class.

The downside is: she asks about Karl all the time and Stephen never knows what to tell her. He kinda, sort of, forgets to call him most of the time. He can’t actually remember when was the last time he called him, he thinks it was three weeks ago. He just makes stuff up instead.

She whispers when they’re in the library, always does even if they’re all alone and the librarian is far away. Stephen thinks it’s cute. 

“So, when are you two gonna see each other again?”

That catches him off guard, and his mind races as he tries to come up with an answer. “I dunno. He’s busy double majoring and I have no idea how the British education system works. I think he has to go through some shit called sixth form, but I think he went straight to Cambridge.”

She smiles. “I can’t believe you’re dating a rich Cambridge guy.”

Dating is probably not to best word to describe where they are right now. God, he  _ needs  _ to talk to him. It’s been a while and he  _ knows  _ Karl has got to be furious at him. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just do it, it can’t take too much of his time, it just slips his mind. 

Besides, studying is more important right now. Karl should understand that, right?

“Why is Cambridge suddenly more impressive than Columbia? Are you siding with the Brits now?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s just...  _ Cambridge _ . I bet they have tea breaks and monuments of old queens on display.”

“Sounds like you’ve never actually been to England.”

“Have you?”

He pauses. “Nope. Farthest I’ve gone is Canada.”

“I went to France once when I was in middle school, but I guess that doesn’t count.” She smiles again. “If you see each other, you think he’ll pay for your ticket to England or will he have to come back here again?”

“I don’t know, Chris. We haven’t talked about that. We’ve both been very busy, and I’m probably going to end up going back to Nebraska anyway. Mom will kill me if I don’t visit at least once a year.”

“But you  _ do  _ want to see him again, right?”

He faces his book as he answers. He doesn’t even know why he hides his expression, Stephen doesn’t even know which expression he’s wearing. “Yes.”

“Well, you have to start planning those things soon, if you want it all ready before summer break.” Christine pointed out, chewing on the end of her pink mechanical pencil. She has a point, but the last thing that Stephen wants to think about right now was how time always ended up being his biggest problem with Karl, apart from his own inability to make one simple phone call.

He’ll call him tonight.

He makes a noncommittal sound and hopes she stops probing. His eyes glaze over his notes, most of them are all memorized but some are just too difficult and detailed for him to focus on right now. Finals are right around the corner, that demands all of Stephen’s attention right now, not his summer vacation. 

He has to do this for Donna. He has to make this right.

Christine speaks up again, Stephen almost lets out an audible groan. “How much are tickets from JFK to Heathrow?”

“Don’t know, haven’t checked.”

“Maybe you could surprise him. Go there unannounced and have him fall into your arm as he faints from shock, it would be so romantic.” She spreads her arms on her chair and pretends to faint herself, then giggles. It would be cuter if he actually appreciated the theatrics at the moment. “Or maybe he could come here. I’m sure he can afford it if he’s a Cambridge guy. I can pitch in a bit if you really need it, though.”

Stephen grips his pencil, still trying to read his notes. “I don’t need any help.”

“Thought so.” She bites her cheek as she thinks. “Maybe he can go back Nebraska with you if you already go there every summer. Would that be good?”

“I don’t fucking  _ know _ , Christine!”

His voice echoes through the library, shattering the silence. All of the students who were previously studying with their own groups turn their heads to face them, trying to catch a glimpse of the drama. Stephen hides his face and glares at the woman in front of him, this time whispering as quietly as he can through his teeth. “I don’t know, alright? Can you mind your own business for once in your life and not be so goddamn  _ helpful _ ?”

He’d expect her to walk off in a silent huff, taking her things with her and allowing the library doors to slam behind her for good measure. She’s done it before, back when they were on-and-off dating. This time, she simply leans back in her chair and crosses her arms, her mouth in a thin line. It reminds him of his mother. 

“You’ve barely talked to him, haven’t you?”

Stephen lets out a nervous laugh that he didn’t know he was holding. “What? Of course I have. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Really? When you were dating me, I always had to call you, you never called me. You fall in love in a little honeymoon phase for a week and then always forget that you’re dating someone.”

“Are you jealous or something?”

“No, I’m just stating a fact because Morgana told me you did the same thing--”

“Oh my god, don’t bring her into this.” Stephen groans.

“Stephen, you have to talk to your boyfriend if you want this to last. You’ve been apart in different countries for six months, communication is more important than ever.” She shakes her head. “It’s not like it’s the eighties, as much as you want it to be. You have a phone, skype, facetime, everything. Hell, even a written letter wouldn’t hurt.”

He hated it when she was right. Stephen hated having things spelled out for him like he was some sort of child. “I know.”

“Then do it.” Christine reaches out and takes his hand, her face now earnest and worried. “When you talked about this guy, so seemed in love for real, and if his house is as fucked up as you say they are, then he looks like he could use someone he can trust.”

He’s trying to focus on her words, but he’d forgotten how gorgeous Christine can be when she’s angry. Or just talking. And her hands are soft and pretty, just as soft as Karl’s. Stephen nods at whatever she’s saying and smiles a bit. “Yeah, yeah.”

She squeezes his hand and Stephen takes it as a chance.

Christine slaps his face before he his lips even touches hers. He assumes everyone in the library is staring at them again as she picks up her things. “You are such an idiot, Stephen Strange. I don’t know Karl, but I know he doesn’t deserve you.”

Fuck. What the hell did he just try to do? “Christine, I wasn’t--”

“Don’t even bother talking to me again. Good luck on your fucking exams.” She says, quiet enough for the librarian not to kick them out but just loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. He guesses he’d already getting some nasty looks from everyone else. Stephen wouldn’t blame them. 

He really needed to stop thinking with his dick all the time.

Stephen picks up his laptop and his notes and stuffs them in his backpack and walks out after he’s sure Christine is far away enough for him not to run into her again. He hopes she doesn’t tell Wong, though he doubts it since he’s taken a liking to his friend, who’s working on a bookstore down in the city now. 

He picks up a cup of coffee before going back to his dorm. A  _ campeón _ is really the only thing that manages to do the trick these days, not even an espresso is enough. As it turned out, especially for instances like these, getting a single room is completely worth the money. Stephen doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, not after that fuck up.

But he needed to talk to Karl.

He bites his lip as an idea comes to mind and runs upstairs. His room is the same as ever, it’s messy but he knows where everything is, just as he likes it. Stephen considers his dorm to be his safe having, his sanctum, and only the worthy may enter.

So, just him and Wong. When he can visit, of course.

Stephen locks the door behind him and takes off most of his clothes as he slumps on his bed. Reading his notes can wait, at least for a little while. 

Their calls aren’t usually that long anyway.

It should be late in London, but not by too much, it’s just a five-hour difference anyway. Just late enough for Karl to be possibly sleeping, but if he’s as busy as he is with Cambridge shit, then Stephen doubts it. He bites his lip again.  

As Stephen points his phone downwards and shoves his briefs aside, he wonders if this is really the best way to start a conversation after a month.

His fingers take the camera and send it before he has time to think.

He waits, his fingers lazily dragging along his half-hard cock, closing his eyes and wondering what he could say to Karl once he responds. He hopes he responds with another picture in return. 

Stephen hears his phone buzz beside him and he picks it up desperately, almost fumbling with it. Karl’s calling him instead. Oh boy.

He holds it to his ear with his shoulder as his hands reach down for his cock, stroking it slowly. “Hey, baby.”

Karl’s voice sounds calmer than he expected. He hoped the guy would be stuttering or something. “Stephen, it’s ten-o-clock.”

“Yeah, figured you’d still be up.” He smirks. “Did you like the picture?”

“We haven’t talked in a month.”

“I know, that’s why I sent you a surprise. Thought you might like to have some fun.”

There’s a pause before Karl speaks, and the silence is deafening. “We haven’t talked in a  _ month _ and you decide to call me when you want to masturbate?”

Fuck.

Stephen picks up his phone with one hand, while the other sits at his navel. “I thought that maybe college was stressing you out and we could do this and then talk.”

Karl scoffs. “I not some sort of toy you can throw away and play with when you’re bored. I just wanted to talk with you like we used to back in your house.”

“Karl, you’ve never been a toy for me! Why didn’t you call me, then, if you wanted to talk so much?”

“I was going through my own problems--”

‘That’s just an excuse! You could’ve called me then and there like you did when you were at a hotel.”

Stephen regrets his words as they come out of his mouth, and regrets them even more as he answers.

“Stephen, my mother in is jail and my father killed himself. I put her in jail. I was suing them and you never once called when you knew I could have been in trouble, just as I told you in the hotel.”

He could’ve heard a pin drop, but he knew Karl was still on the line, he started to hear the faint sound of a breeze.

“Karl... I--” Stephen realizes that he has no idea what to say. “Are things--” He begins, before changing his words halfway through. “Are you okay?” When no immediate answer comes, he says, “I’m sorry I’m so bad at this. I should have helped you during that. But I’m glad you’re away from them now.”

Karl is quiet for a while. Then, when he does make a noise, it’s some kind of joyless laughter. “It’s--It’s fine now.”

But it isn’t, and Stephen has always known it. They both do. They’re drifting apart and Karl’s miserable because of it. He isn’t asking because he wants to see how far Karl can lie, or how much he can see quietly stray away. They used to tell each other everything.

“Karl, I am so,  _ so  _ sorry.” 

Karl makes another noise that sounds like a sniff, he hopes he isn’t crying. “I want to hear from you more, please. Just call, at least once a week or every few days. I can try to call you too.”

“Please do. I’ll... try.” It’s all he could say, really, and the silence that followed was as awkward as it could possibly be. Everything has changed, everything is different, and they can no longer speak about hypothetical hopes for the future as they laid down on grass fields under the summer sun. 

Stephen bites the side of his cheek, trying to find something smart to say, but Karl beats him to the punch with a clear of his throat, no longer sniffing other the line. 

“...How are your classes?”

“Kicking my ass, but I’m doing fine. How’s Cambridge?”

“Not much different than Columbia, it seems.” He hopes Karl says that with a smile.

The world feels so much smaller when they talk. 

He pauses. “Do you... do you still want to?...” Stephen has no idea how to ask if he wants to have phone sex delicately, but he’s already naked, might as well broach the subject somehow. 

Karl sounds even more tired than before. “Are you kidding me? No.” It sounds harsh, and Karl speaks again in a softer tone. “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. When you want to.”

“And, Stephen?” 

“Yes?”

Karl lets out a laugh that sounds real this time. It’s beautiful. “I let you keep those pictures of me for a reason. The polaroids. You can use those instead.”

It takes him a while to remember what exactly Karl is talking about before he starts rummaging through his bedside table, still on his call. Just as he predicted, the pictures of he took of Karl right before he left were still intact. And explicit. Christ, it’s a miracle Wong didn’t find them somehow.

“Found them. Um, they’re still as nice as ever.” He hears Karl pause and then cough, it’s a loud one. He hopes he isn’t sick. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, don’t worry about me right now. Just promise you’ll call and I’ll feel better than ever.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

Karl laughs a bit again. “I’m not sure if I am getting a doctorate yet, but sure.”

He remembers what Christine told him before she stormed off (he prays to god that Wong doesn’t tell Karl  _ why  _ she stormed off) and stops Karl before he can let the conversation end. “What’s the next time you have a break?”

“What do you mean?”

“A summer break. A spring break, I don’t know if British people have that. I was thinking we could... see each other soon.”

“I don’t know.” Karl sounds resigned, tired. Stephen doesn’t blame him, but this just means that he’ll have to make an effort for this to work now too. “We can talk about it later on.”

“Sure. Yeah.” He knew that long distance relationships were supposed to be difficult, but he didn’t expect them to be this awkward as well. “I’ll... catch you later, then?”

“I--” Karl begins, but he stops before he says anything else. “Goodbye, Stephen.” 

He hangs up before Stephen has a chance to even ask what he was going to say, and he realizes that the warmth in his chest after speaking to Karl feels better than anything else he could have done that night. 

Stephen set his phone to the side and closed his eyes, photos still laying on his chest.

He needs to make this work.

 

\---

 

They are actually talking now. Almost every day, in fact. Exchanging dozens and dozens of messages with someone on a regular basis was something Karl was not used to, he prided himself on being one of the few young adults who doesn’t see the appeal in texting, but Stephen always has something interesting to say, even if he likes to do so during his classes or his study hours. With each  _ ding _ of his phone, the temptation to grab it and answer immediately was growing stronger -- Karl doesn’t ever dare to do so in class, but he may reach his breaking point soon.

It’s still odd, after all these months, to remember someone actually cares about him, even if they are thousands of miles away. 

He wishes he had magic. He wishes he could teleport back to America and feel Stephen’s lips against his own once more, always blissful and warm. But real life did not come with wishes and fantasies, no matter much he’s in love.

Karl glances at his phone again, allowing himself to answer to the message the instant he finishes his assigned reading. Once he did, he sees that Stephen had sent yet another picture of himself. In this one, he’s waking up and still has the messy, bedhead hair that is somehow so appealing on other men. Not on Stephen, though, he needs a haircut.

He answers with something simple that  _ shouldn’t  _ be turned into a sexual answer, no matter how much Stephen tries to make it so. He would start expecting pictures and video chatting between the two of them! Karl had already lied and said that both his laptop and his phone camera are broken, though both of them are well aware Karl had the money to fix them or just buy another.

He couldn’t allow Stephen to look at his scars. They will never go away, like a curse that he was forced to remember for the rest of his life, but he can’t have Stephen ask him about them. Not now, not yet. 

It will happen eventually.

He can barely speak about it out loud, not since the Danish man touched them. Karl couldn’t believe he allowed it, that he even considered sleeping with him. He was well aware why anyone as lonely as him would have. 

Right?

Stephen sends him another message not shortly after -- something about a film he intends on seeing later with Wong after his test. Karl doesn’t know how to respond, he simply wishes him good luck and that he hoped he enjoyed his film. Part of him is... oddly jealous. He remembers being able to watch films with Stephen whenever he wanted, driving past cornfields to the theater or cuddling together on a mattress. He misses it -- he misses it so much -- and he just then realizes that he hasn’t been touched since Kae at the bar, but that’s just eating him on the inside.

He can’t allow himself to depend so much on a man he doesn’t even know if he truly wants to see. 

Stephen answers back with a smile. Through text, of course, but a smile nonetheless. Karl tosses the phone to his bed before he thinks much of it, he can’t do this right now. He has his finals soon and his education is more important than anything else.

Or it just helps Karl distract himself. He just isn’t as fond of history and English as he is in... men. He’s just studying this because he has no other talents, nothing else to fall back to. Then again, he could always drop out and become a stripper.

He hopes his grandfather or father doesn’t hear him think this from hell. 

Despite all the shared words, all the texts about unimportant things and shared words in the brief moments that they actually call each other, they keep avoiding the most important subject. Summer is approaching, the heat of the summer even noticeable in the rainy London weather, but they refuse to talk about seeing each other. Whether the possibility seems more and more unrealistic as the days draw near, or if it’s simply because Stephen doesn’t actually want to see him, he does not know, but it’s driving him mad. 

Yet, for all his desperation, Karl can’t imagine how it must seem to his boyfriend that he no longer wants to show his face. The guilt eats him up inside -- no longer Stephen avoids the subject, he must think that Karl no longer thinks of him. It makes him feel terrible. He isn’t used to love, he isn’t used to caring  _ so much _ and he’s so terrified of making any more wrong moves. Everything is confusing.

He wants to look at Stephen but, dear God, he would rather die than have Stephen look at him.

_ ‘It’s time to choose a side now,’  _ He tells himself. _ ‘Spiraling self-consciousness or unwavering desire?” _

In a huff, Karl orders a ticket from Kennedy to Heathrow, staring at the screen immediately afterward in shock at his own impulsiveness. A one-way ticket. Free, just for Stephen. It’s an offer he can’t refuse, if the man truly loves him, and one he absolutely should if he doesn’t.

Being rich has its perks.

He can hide his scars, for now, and let the man ask any questions once he arrives. The young man scratches at his neck, he needs another cigarette. He wonders which one Stephen would hate more, his scars of his newfound vices? Like every other abused child yearning for something to cope -- except Stephen doesn’t know he’s a newfound vice, just like his nicotine. Is this what he does now with the things he loves? Do they make him go mad?

From the corner of his room, stark white and barely decorate, Karl stares on the phone in his bed. (It’s just like the room back in Nebraska, only it smells more of nicotine, tea, and incense from downstairs. The view is not as nice either, the sun does not shine as brightly.)

He picks it up, already decided that he’s going out to get something to drink. As his fingers swipe across the screen, he sends one more message, and there’s a shake to his hands and a lump in his throat as he hits send.

_ I need to see you. _

 

\---

 

Summer finally arrives, all flowers blooming and the grass as green as it is every year. It quietly envelops the earth in its warmth, like a hug that’s a bit too strong, unbidden but not unexpected. Nebraskan summers are the quietest, especially in this town. The only loud sound to be expected is tractors and trucks on nearby fields or the gallop of horses passing by the road. He isn’t used to it, even after nineteen years. He was always a city boy at heart, it was what his mother would tell him, what his father still regrets. Boys like him weren’t made for the summer. At least, not anymore. Not when he feels this alone.

He wants to be busy. He wants to dissect things, he wants to study, he wants to be better than everyone in his class. It’s all he can focus on, especially after Donna’s headaches seem to get worse. 

The new goats and chickens his mother bought keep leaving his grasp as he tries so hard to get them clean. He hasn’t named any of them, doesn’t want to get attached after what happened to the last ones. When he did this with Karl, it felt fun, not it just feels like yet another chore in what seems to be an endless list. Dad wants to keep him busy, scared that he’ll run off and meet another boy that’ll make him fall in love. He doesn’t seem to get that Karl and him are still dating, but he doesn’t understand long-distance relationships. That’s fine, Stephen doesn’t either.

He wishes Wong was here, but he moved to New York City with his dad, they have some family over there. Wong went to follow his dreams at the big apple like all the other dreamers who want to be writers or artists. Stephen doesn’t understand it, doesn’t seem like a stable job to him, but Wong has never really given a shit about his opinion on things. He tells Stephen he’s missing a soul, or something equally poetic, and goes back to making tea. Come to think of it, didn’t he want to be a librarian? He should know these things. Whatever, now he has a friend he can depend on when he’s studying, but it sucks now that he’s back home.

At least he doesn’t have to stay for long. Just another week, and he’s off to London.

Hours past, he’s covered in sweat, grime, and mud. At least, he hopes it’s just mud. It comes off with a long shower, the water’s a bit too hot as the sun still continues to shine, and he suddenly feels exhausted. 

There’s a ticket on his desk, already printed out and waiting for him to look at it properly. All Stephen knows is that he leaves next Friday, with a first-class seat straight to Heathrow airport, to see his boyfriend for the first time in six months. He isn’t sure how he feels about it yet, his heart beats in anticipation, a bit too quickly. He tells himself it’s because he’s never been out of the country and he doesn’t know what to expect. His body shakes in the slightest bit of panic. 

Stephen Strange does not panic.

He leaves the bathroom, walking naked to his room with nothing covering him but a towel. At least that’s one thing he can enjoy from being back home -- it’s not a dorm filled with other med students just as overworked, smelly and tired as him. His room is not as cluttered as it was last time. There’s a clear difference in the number of records mounted on his wall, they sit in boxes on the floor now, it’s harder for them to fall that way. 

Water still dripping from his fingertips, he stares at his desk, at the ticket, and wonders why the hell he isn’t as excited as he should be.

Yeah, he wants to make this all work. He wants Karl to be happy -- wants to be happy with Karl -- but maybe this was just not what he expected when he got himself roped up in this relationship eight months ago. 

He’s having his doubts. Stephen assumes it’s normal.

Dry and properly dressed, Stephen lays on his bed. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t talked to Karl since he agreed to travel, assuring him that he was excited and thankful by adding a plethora of exclamation points to his texts. He was smiling in shock the entire time, showing a picture of his ticket to Wong with a grin. His mother had squealed with joy, urging him to take all the pictures he could from the trip. That excitement has to count for something. It has to.

He decides not to think about it anymore. 

There’s a knock on his door. A single one that’s immediately followed by Donna opening the door -- she always does that, knocks once and opens the door without getting an actual response. It’s ended in a lot of awkward situations, and one would think that she would understand that at fifteen, but she doesn’t seem to.

Stephen still feels bad about missing her birthday. He should make it up to her, maybe they could watch a movie tonight. 

She speaks first, a smile on her face he can’t quite place. “Hey, you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, just tired.” 

“It’s only six in the afternoon.”

“Just wait until you’re nineteen. Or in college. Being able to take a nap at six is a fucking luxury.” 

She laughs, just a bit, and shuffles where she stands. Like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what. “How are you feeling?” Stephen asks, knowing well that she should be laying in bed right now. Her migraines have been bad all week.

“Better. Head hurts just a little, but it’s nothing I can’t manage. Don’t think I’m gonna pass out anytime soon.” Donna jokes, but it’s not something Stephen can laugh at. “Um, are you actually gonna take a nap?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“I was thinking we could head out to the lake for a swim. It’s such a nice day out.”

Donna won’t admit it since she’s supposed to be in her edgy, dark teenager phase, but she’s always loved sunny days. She wasn’t allowed to go out in the sun for too long after her first incident. Now she looks for any excuse to go outside. Stephen huffs, “You’re supposed to be laying down.”

“I don’t want to lay down. Come on, Steve, just for a while. Just for an hour. I can at least dip my toes and take a walk or something.”

He groans again, acting overly tired in the hopes that she’ll change her mind and leave him alone. “Nah, not today. Maybe later. Besides, I really think you should lay down today.”

“I’ve been laying down all fucking week! All I’ve been doing since you left was lay down!”

So this is what this is all about. It wasn’t the first time they had this discussion, and Stephen doesn’t blame her, he can’t imagine being forced to be cooped up for so long all the time. Missing school, missing out on the world. Stephen stands up and hugs her, it’s all he can do really until she calms down and stops breathing so heavy as if she’s going to breathe out fire. He would lie to her when she was a kid, telling her that her red hair allowed her to control flames. Mom said it would turn her into a pyromaniac. Turns out all it did was make her rage and burn.

She stops burning, eventually, and sniffs. “Sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s fine. Listen, maybe we can go out to the lake some other time. I promise we will before I go out to London, okay? Just the two of us, and we can jump from the dock or throw ourselves from the rope, like old times.” 

Donna pauses, moving her hair out of the way. “Are you excited to see him again?”

Stephen does the same. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound too excited.”

“Things are... complicated. You’ll know once you get a boyfriend, boys are dumb and hate talking about their feelings. Myself included.”

His little sister pulls away, keeping her distance. She opens her mouth to speak then closes it, lips pursed in thought. “Stephen, there’s something I gotta tell you.”

Stephen goes back to sit on his bed, looking at her. She seems nervous, panicking. Neither of them are used to that. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just forget it.” She brushes it off with a laugh and gestures towards the door, making it clear she wants to leave. 

He stops her, at least for a moment, and speak again. “Hey, you know you can talk to me whenever you want right? You can trust me.”

She clears her throat. “Yeah, I know.” Donna starts to head to her room with a final ‘ _ love you!’  _ before promptly closing the door behind her. Stephen yells out the same, smiling and shaking his head, remember just why he agreed to go back home in the first place. 

Mom can survive without him, as long as she gets some calls. Dad has barely spoken to him in the last few months but the feeling is mutual, and there’s nothing he can do to fix it, really. Donna is different, and he made a vow to her a long time ago. He’s a doctor, after all, it's his job to keep her safe.

Turns out some vows aren’t meant to be kept. By all the cruel irony of the world, Stephen does end up falling asleep, and the hour passes far too quickly and quietly. His parents are out, the house is quiet, and by all means, he should have known that Donna is capable of running away. She’s fifteen, rebellious and burning -- he could have stopped it. Could have easily just said yes and avoided everything. Instead, he sleeps, as Donna runs across the fields by herself to the lake, red hair swept back by the summer wind. 

When he wakes up, Donna’s room is quiet and empty. The entire house is, the entire field is. When Stephen runs out to the lake, the wind has stopped and the sun continues to shine stronger than ever. Maybe that’s the cruelest part, that he has to yell out for his sister’s name under a cloudless sky. That the air feels just the same and the water in the lake is warm and perfect as he jumps in completely clothed, swimming to the bottom. That it doesn’t start raining, nor does the sky get darker, and Donna, no longer burning and aching, drowns on what could have been a perfect day. 

He doesn’t remember whether or not he walked back with her body in his arm of if he called the cops, it all happened so far. He’s too busy replaying the same conversation over and over, something that could have been completely avoidable. It’s blood on his hands and Donna would so often joke that if she were to die, she was probably going to die under his hands on an operating table. Now it’s like a cruel memory, and the sheriff stares stoically when he admits he chose not to go with her. His mom is crying and his dad refuses to look at him -- will never look at him again.

The sun shines on his face as he stands sits outside. He blinks, uselessly, eyes stuck staring out at the field, remembering that he still has a plane ticket sitting on his desk. For some reason he can’t quite place, it makes him ache in a terrible sort of way, and now he’s wishing he’d taken Donna’s place instead. 

He realizes he’s crying; that’s normal. He’s a doctor -- he’s going to be a doctor -- this won’t be his first person to die under his care. Stephen brings his knees to his chest and feels smaller, like all the times he would sit out on the porch as a kid to cry. Except this time, he isn’t sobbing with scraped knees; the tears just fall as the whole world contorts around him, letting him know that it was all his fault and that he’s just a selfish monster. 

His eyes close, the sun finally sets, and the day catches up with his heart.

Summers are no longer special.

 

\---

 

It’s been a week since he last heard from Stephen.

He has not actually panicked until now. Karl assumed that Stephen was busy spending time with his family, as one should. Alright, he started getting nervous after the third day. Stephen kept reading his messages and not answering, ignoring all of his calls. Karl was just starting to get used to their constant communication again, only to have it taken away from him so suddenly, and so close to Stephen’s trip to London. He takes out his phone again, for the fourth time in the last hour, making sure he has not missed any texts.

_ How is Nebraska? _

_ I hope you are having a good time. Say hello to your mother for me. :) _

_ Stephen? _

_ Is everything okay? _

_ Please tell me you are okay. _

He hopes it isn’t too clingy. If they are, then he will look like a fool that’s worrying about nothing. Maybe Stephen is busy. Maybe he simply doesn’t want to talk to him. 

He lights another cigarette, the fourth one of the day. It’s bad, he knows it, but he’s incredibly stressed at the moment and has nothing else to latch on to. Usually, Stephen is his distraction, but now Stephen is his main source of worry. He’s the only thing he can ever think about, as unhealthy as it sounds. Just one message would fix everything, just one reassuring  _ I’m fine  _ or an  _ I love you.  _ His fingers hover over the keyboard, wondering whether or not he should send the next message. 

_ Don’t do this to me again. _

It’s pathetic. 

He sends it anyway.

He no longer wants to be driven by loneliness. Karl has no friends, no family -- no one. He only has Stephen, and if he loses him... he has no idea what will become of him.

It’s pathetic to depend all of his happiness on one person, too much of a burden and too much of a risk. He does it anyway. His life already feels like it’s crumbling, like he’s going mad. Stephen was right, his grandfather’s death solved nothing, it just awakened more burdens. His bill has not been paid, the universe still wants him to suffer.

He just wants this one thing. This one good thing. And he’s so tired of getting hurt and asking if it’s alright to bleed.

Stephen doesn’t respond for the rest of the night. Karl passes out on his bed with his phone next to him, eyes aching from staring at the screen for so long. When he wakes up, he does because of the buzz of his phone. He responds immediately, without even checking who it might be.

“Stephen?”

There’s a wait before the person at the end of the call answer. Their voice is stoic, quiet. “Hey, Karl.”

Karl lets out a sigh of relief that he’s been holding in for days. He’s smiling, holding his head as his entire body finally relaxes for the first time in so long. “Oh god, I was so worried. Is everything okay?”

Once again, another pause. “Yeah. Fine and dandy.” He doesn’t say anything after that, doesn’t elaborate. It seems so quiet over the end of his line, he usually can hear music playing in the background every time he calls Stephen. 

“That’s good.” Karl bites his lip, a warmth swelling in his chest. “I’m excited to see you.”

Stephen huffs. “Hope it doesn’t rain too much,” is all he says in response.

“Um, I have not checked the forecast. Hopefully, the weather is nice.”

“Yeah, I guess...” The American says something under his breath that he can’t quite place. “It’s been real sunny over here.”

“It’s hard to enjoy sunny days for me right now. Everything is so... busy. I’ve been busy too, but it’s good that I get to see you soon.” His lips smile against the cool glass of his phone, almost like a kiss. “I would say that I have a lot to tell you but not much has happened.”

Stephen waits exactly ten seconds to answer. Karl has to wait ten seconds for his entire day to be absolutely ruined. It takes him about two for him to start getting nervous. In five, he wonders if Stephen hung up by mistake, or if the call dropped. By the seventh second, Karl calls out for his name -- twice, just in case he did not hear. Stephen takes a bated breath before he speaks again, and Karl expects excited anticipation, but all he gets is resignation. And a broken heart.

“Karl, I can’t do this anymore.” He hears a sigh breathe out against his ear. If he tries hard enough, he could pretend its right next to him. “I don’t think I can come see you.”

“Why not?”

“Things have happened and come up. Made things complicated.” He can imagine Stephen now, cockily talking into his phone without a care in the world. Before Karl feels his heart shatter, he feels his eyes go red. 

“What  _ things _ ?”

“It’s a long story, alright?”

“You have had more than enough time to explain anything that has been happening to you.” Karl closes his eyes and sits on his bed. He wants to throw something, wants to throw a fits against something until it hurts. He hates that the first thing his body wants to do when he feels like this isresult to violence. “There’s someone else.”

“No, Karl. I’m not fucking cheating on you.” His voice sounds so sure of himself that Karl almost believes him. “I just can’t go, okay? I have a lot to think about.”

“And that’s it?” He almost laughs about how  _ ridiculous  _ they are, how inept they can be at just speaking. Karl blames Stephen, for the most part. “You’re not going to elaborate or even bother trying to tell me what’s going on?”

“Karl, I’m not... I’m not ready to talk about it. Just things and--”

“ **What things?!** ” He swears in his native tongue, shakes his head in disbelief. “I will not let you hang up without an explanation. I won’t let you break my heart over an abstraction, you prick. I bought you a ticket! I gave my heart to you, my body,  _ everything _ . You can’t just walk away from this over a phone call!”

“Then what, you want me to end things in person?”

“You don’t have the balls to break up with me in person. You barely have the balls to hold up a conversation with me.” Karl growls, and he’s suddenly transported back to the hill where they fought after his grandfather died. It’s like he can see Stephen in front of him, growling back like two dogs about to bite each other’s heads off. “You’re such a coward.”

“Don’t you call me that. Don’t you dare call me that. You have no idea what I’ve just been through.”

“No, I don’t. Because you won’t tell me! You barely make an effort to speak to me!” 

That manages to shut him up, at least for a moment, while Karl allows himself to be smug for once. It turns into sadness, and the scars on his forehead begin to burn like a reopened wound. 

“I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry I don’t bother talking to you. We haven’t seen each other in six months. We only dated for two. And for some fucking reason that you won’t tell me why you won’t let me see your face. Have you ever considered that you still haven’t given me a proper excuse  _ why _ ? Have you ever considered that I just don’t want to talk to you? Have you ever thought about that?”

Karl’s crying to his fury, and it makes for a pathetic sound that leaves his lips and Stephen definitely hears. He hopes he does and feels guilty. 

“It’s  _ all _ I think about.”

He expects Stephen to yell at him again, but he has the basic human decency to stay silent while Karl composes himself. He tries his hardest not to sob too loudly, but it’s no use. He puts his head down in his hands and weeps, his cheeks stained and wet. It goes on for God knows how long, and it’s exhausting. He thinks he hears a sound over the line, a group of words meant to soothe him. They do not, Karl continues, and Stephen waits uncharacteristically patiently for him to finish.

“Please don’t do this to me.” He finally says. His voice still trembles, it’s cracking like he’s thirteen again. “I can’t -- I can’t take it again. I don’t have anyone else.”

Stephen sounds as if he’s going to say something else but shuts up before Karl can even register it. 

Is this was what relationships were like? Were they always so dramatic and painful? He’d read so many novels, watched so many films that all told about love but nothing could have prepared him emotionally for this. Not that he was ever emotionally prepared for anything in the first place. 

Stephen finally answers and apologizes. “I’m sorry.” Karl shakes his head, even if he’s alone.

“Why do we keep doing this?” He sighs. “Since we did we start arguing so much?”

“Since we decided to make out in my car.”

It actually makes him laugh, just a bit. Stephen is so bad at easing the tension that he somehow manages to do it. Still, Karl can’t bring himself to change the topic. “I need to see you again, at least one more time... I love you.”

“Karl... The only reason you fell in love with me was because I was the only person to ever give a fuck about you.” Stephen clears his throat. “It’s harsh, but we both know it’s true.”

Karl is so numb at this point that the words are like a chip on his shoulder, and he accepts them. Under any other circumstances, he would be enraged to hear Stephen speak about their relationship like that, but he had a point. “It doesn’t make my feelings any less real. I still love you.”

“I know.”

Karl scoffs, “What did you say last time? ‘ _ Don’t Han Solo me, you dick? _ ” Please take this seriously, Stephen.”

“I am.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Curiously, Stephen answers almost immediately, “I’ll go to London. I’ll see you.”

Despite everything, Karl feels a wave of relief that he knows will leave him soon enough once he actually considers the rest of his situation, but for now, it will do. He lets out a whispered  _ thank you _ before laying down on his mattress, exhaustion pouring over his body and taking him in waves. He wonders if Stephen feels the same. “We can make this work. We can give this a second chance.”

He expects Stephen to say more, but the man only answers with a quick “I’ll see you soon,” before he hangs up right after.

Karl closes his eyes against his pillow, cheeks still damp, and the only thing he can think about before falling asleep is just how he’s going to hide his scars?

 

\---

 

He ends up wearing a hat.

It takes him a while to decide which sort of hat exactly would be the best to hide so many scars since some of them now sit on his cheeks, but he ends up picking a beanie for now. It’s pretty common, even in the summer, he hopes it doesn’t look too out of place. Though, Karl doubts that anyone is really paying attention to him at the airport, everyone else around him is eagerly awaiting whoever it is they’re expecting from Stephen’s flight -- one of the dozens of planes that go from New York to London every day. To them, he is just another man in the crowd, holding a sign with Stephen’s name on it. It’s just simple cardboard he found laying around the house. Part of him wondered if he should have bothered making it more eye-catching... it is Stephen, after all, the man is the epitome of eye-catching. He settled for just writing the man’s name with a black marker, with the word  _ doctor _ in front of them. He thought Stephen would appreciate it.

The plane arrives about forty minutes late. Despite all the warnings of delays he received to his phone, and the constant fact checking with the people around him, Karl still worried about Stephen’s safety and expected the worst -- that the plane crashed, it was hijacked, it disappeared -- he almost made himself nauseous just out of the sheer worry in his body. He assumes it's the anxiety. Karl likes to believe he should be used to the feeling by now.

When Stephen does arrive, it’s well into midnight, and Karl catches himself yawning the instant he sees the man walking towards the group. It almost ruins the moment,  _ almost _ . In the brief moment that it takes for Stephen to catch his eye and find him, he feels his breath fall short at the sight of him. 

This is not the Stephen he expected.

The Stephen he was waiting for still had his normally shaggy hair, his dark clothes and old band t-shirts that he likes so much, jeans far too tight for his skinny legs. This Stephen still had piercings in his ears and a smile on his face. He was expecting a version of the man he fell in love with that suddenly did not exist anymore.

Instead, this Stephen looks... completely different. He’s wearing respectable clothing -- a button down white shirt with jeans that don’t have a tear in sight, a pair of shoes he’s never seen before. There are no piercings, no makeup, nothing that could make him distinguishable at first glance. His hair is short, no longer almost covering his eyes, and swept to the side. He’s wearing a watch, a nice one at that. It’s only been a few months and he already looks so much older while Karl feels exactly the same.

When Stephen locks eyes with him, he does not get the smile he expected. Karl stands there, mute. Instead, they stare at each other like they're in a magnetic trance, walking towards each other by their body’s own volition. He can’t feel himself moving but he knows he is, until he’s running across the gate to meet him. They both are. With every step of his feet he can feel his face grow warmer, his heart aches with something he still does not understand, even after all this time. Karl expects them to crash into each other and kiss, right then and there, without a care in the world. Instead, they stop in their tracks once they are far from the gate, with nothing stopping them from touching each other except themselves. There’s still a foot of space between them. Twelve inches of unexpected uncertainty.

His hand drifts to his hat, pulling the edges downwards just a bit, suddenly more self-conscious than before. 

Stephen walks closer, radiating even more heat from his body. This time, Karl is the one to ease the tension. He expected Stephen to kiss him before he started speaking, despite his newfound courage he isn’t entirely sure if he wants a kiss. “You... You finally got a haircut!”

The American smiles,  _ finally _ . It looks beautiful on him. Karl takes it back, he does want to kiss him. “Thought I should clean up before I saw you, I didn’t want you nagging about my hair again. Ma did that enough while I was back home.”

His hand moves to touch at the side of Stephen’s hair to feel how short it is. Like electricity, he feels goosebumps on the skin that meets Stephen’s. His fingertips graze over the hair at his temple before falling to his shoulder. Discreetly, Karl’s thumb strokes the soft skin of the curve of his neck, feeling it turn hot at the touch. 

“How is she?” Karl asks. Stephen looks down and purses his lips in a way that Karl cannot read.

“Fine.” Stephen’s eyes dart to the small cardboard sign he’s holding. “Hey, not a doctor yet, gotta wait until I get my diplomas, man.” 

“I thought you would appreciate it.”

Stephen only shrugs in response, a half-smile still on his face, as Karl feels the air get awkward again. It was the last feeling he wanted to have, especially after so long, but it’s useless. His mind drifts to all the hours he wasted replaying their last phone call over and over again, until he was engraved on his mind, like etchings on stone, into a memory that can never be forgotten. They’re still incredibly close, no longer enough space to fool any passerby about their relationship, but Stephen creates a gap once more not soon after he notices. “We should go to baggage claim.”

Karl nods wordlessly and they walk alongside each other across the airport, much more crowded and larger than the one in Nebraska and Bucharest. The constant sound of people around him is enough to distract him from the feeling of Stephen’s hands grazing against his own as they walk. He bites his lower lip and hooks his smallest finger around Stephen’s. The American responds by holding his hand properly, squeezing it reassuringly, and everything feels right again.

They wait for Stephen’s bag. They wait outside while Karl orders an Uber that will take them straight to his house, silently agreeing that neither of them wants to take the tube at this hour. They sit beside each other in the backseat of a stranger’s car, knees touching but no longer holding hands. It’s incredibly silent, despite the loud music that keeps playing over the driver’s radio. It reminds him of his first car ride with Stephen, looking at corn fields pass them by while listening to the man’s music. Except they aren’t sharing earbuds, and Stephen is busy looking at the city lights instead of him.

Nothing feels reassuring anymore.

When they arrive, Karl takes Stephen’s luggage despite the man’s insistence to help. His tenant is asleep but the home still smells of incense and candles. They do nothing to soothe his nerves. Stephen comments on the smell, saying he likes it, but it’s all he says once they enter his flat.

Karl closes the door behind him and watches as Stephen stands in the middle of the small living area beside the kitchen, taking in his surroundings. It’s devastatingly plain, with minimal furniture and any decorations already came with the rent. Karl has never seen this place as a home and had no intentions of worrying about the look of his house, he has never invited anyone inside before. 

“It’s... nice.” Stephen lies.

Karl shuffles where he stands. Part of him wants to run to the middle of the room and tackle Stephen to the ground – whether to kiss him or to yell at him, he did not know. The other part of him wanted to keep as much distance away from Stephen as possible. As it turned out, wanting to see Stephen and having Stephen standing not five feet away from him were two very different feelings, and he still had no idea how he felt about the latter. The American was still facing away from him, looking out the window and probably trying not to look back. Like Orpheus leading Eurydice, scared that they lose each other forever if they steal a glance or say anything else. As if anything could ruin them. Not that they weren’t already hanging together by a thread, anyway.

If there’s anything that Karl learned from his time in London, is that drinking was the best way to avoid emotional conversation. He clears his throat and heads to the kitchen, “Do you want any tea?”

“Huh? Sure.”

Karl prepares it on autopilot, almost forgetting the other man’s presence when he hears him move closer, sitting on the counter beside him. It’s kind of rude, but he says nothing of it.

“I don’t think I actually know how to drink tea. I thought it would just taste like water.”

Karl smiles, despite himself. “Don’t say that too loudly or I’ll be evicted.”

Beside him, Stephen huffs out a small laugh. He can see the man has his hands in his pockets and keeps looking at his knees. Karl sees them closely now – he’s wearing khakis. God, he’s wearing khakis. He has to say something. “I… couldn’t help but notice your hair.”

“Yeah, you like it?” Stephen tousles it a bit, showing off how short it is. As much as he enjoys being able to see both of his boyfriend’s eyes properly, he’s not sure if he can get used to it.

“Not sure. You look… older.”

“In a hot way?”

“More in a ‘ _ Í have three kids and need to finish paying my mortgage’ _ sort of way, actually. Especially with that clothes.”

“Shut up.” Stephen nudges him gently. It feels like they can get back into familiarity. “I just needed a change in, well, everything. If I have to be a doctor, I have to look like one.” At the words, the man’s expression changes for a brief moment, like a hint of sadness crosses his face. “I got rid of a lot of my clothes. I think… the Stephen you met last summer is different from this one.”

Karl keeps his eyes on the boiling water. “How so?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure it out.” He pauses. “There’s a lot of city kids with nice clothes other there. Lot’s of people with big egos who think they’re better than me. Smarter.”

“—And you have to prove them wrong?”

“I guess.”

Karl moves the teapot aside as it lets out a loud whistling noise and allows the tea to steep. He crosses his arms. “You don’t have to be like them to be better.”

“But what if I  _ like  _ being like this?” Stephen snaps.

Unsure what to do about the sudden tension radiating from the man, Karl shrugs. “Then do what you wish, I don’t care.” Realizing what that must sound like, he backtracks, stammering. “N-Not that I don’t care about you but… just be whoever you want to be, Stephen. I’m trying to do the same.”

He doesn’t know how the man reacts to his question – his face is unreadable – and only watches as the man leans back into the kitchen wall behind him and relaxes back into his laidback personae once more. “How’s Cambridge?”

“It’s good. Interesting. Busy”

“Can’t believe you’re double majoring. What is it? History and geography?”

“History and Literature.” Karl grits his teeth a bit at the fact that Stephen has not bothered learning what he’s studying.

“What are you gonna do with that?”

“I am still… figuring that out.”

“You don’t have a plan B or anything?”

“My plan be was following my family wishes for me. I don’t intend on that happening.”

Stephen looks at him with a characteristically smug face. “Always gotta have a second plan, Karl.”

“What’s yours?”

“Cardiology.”

He has to think about his response. “I think I am leaning towards focusing on literature. Maybe eastern, not sure yet.”

“Aren’t you, like, really good at four different instruments and a black belt at… karate or whatever?” Stephen laughs incredulously. “You have a lot of options, babe.”

“Those were things I didn’t exactly do because I wanted to. This is the first time I get to study what I want to study and… I’m getting used to it.” He begins pouring the tea into their respective cups. He leaves Stephen’s as it is, without any milk or sugar, while his own is impossibly sweet. He knows the man would like it that way. “Not everyone has their life perfectly figured out like you, Stephen. I am… I am surviving. I’m moving on.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “I’ve only been on my own for six months.”

They both take their cups and drink their tea in silence.

Karl looks down at the pale brown liquid. “Did you like it?”

“It’s better than I expected.”

Once again, he catches himself smiling, flushing at the words. “Thank you.”

They make more attempts at polite, lighthearted conversation. Stephen asks about anyone he’s met at uni. Karl responds with the truth: he hasn’t exactly met many people, he doesn’t have any friends. There are a scattered few he’s spoken to, like a Tina and Daniel, who attend one of his classes, and Lucien, who is a bit of a prick. Stephen tells him that he’s doing wonderfully, and that he already has a couple of friends, including Christine. Karl tries to cut that piece of the conversation short before he has to hear any more about her, and decides to change the subject to his family. Stephen’s questions turn from long monologues to monosyllable sounds. Looking at his cup long after he finished his tea.

He knows there’s something wrong. Karl suspects it's something about Mr. Strange, he’s well aware the two of them are not on good terms, no thanks to him, but he does not touch on the subject more than he should.

The room is dead silent again, clearly, none of their attempts at small talk worked in easing the air around them.

Karl moves towards the counter, his body settled between Stephen’s legs. The man is now a foot taller than him from where he sits, Karl has to stand on the ball of his feet to reach his face.

Stephen doesn’t move away when he gets closer, nor does he move. His body is frozen, looking down at him with a blank stare. Karl’s nose brushes against Stephen’s – like a tender kiss, the sweetest kind, the sort where lips don’t have to meet. Stephen still doesn’t react, but he’s sure he can feel a hitch of the man’s breath before he leans forward to kiss him. Finally,  _ finally _ , Stephen moves forward as Karl takes his cup and sets it to the side while Stephen’s arms are busy making their way around his neck.

When Karl pulls apart, all he can feel is the heat around them and the sound of his own heartbeat. Or it could be Stephen’s, he isn’t entirely sure which ones which. “I missed you.” He closes his eyes and brushes his nose against the tip of Stephen’s once more. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Stephen smiles on his lips. “Aren’t you happy to have me back?”

“Incredibly so.”

Karl's hands wander from Stephen’s chest to his thighs, trying to edge them apart. “Do you want me to take you to bed?”

He didn’t expect this.

He didn’t expect Stephen to push him away so suddenly. It wasn’t a shove or even an actual push, but the man purses his lips as he gently moves Karl a step back. He moves off from the counter and strokes the side of his face with a sad smile. “Not tonight. Jet-lagged.”

Karl has no idea if he is entitled to selfishness right now but, good lord, did he want sex. He  _ needed _ it in a way he hated. Not out of lust, but just to be one-hundred percent sure that Stephen was actually there with him. It must be nothing, it doesn’t have to be read into, but Karl can’t help but wonder if there’s something behind the man’s words.

Stephen kisses him again, reassuringly. “I still wouldn’t mind if you take me to bed. Just… to go to sleep.”

Without a word, Karl nods, ignoring the fact that Stephen’s luggage is still at the entrance and that the sun is going to rise at any moment. He didn’t notice how long the two of them spent talking or standing in silence, and Karl goes too quickly cover the windows before dawn hits the sky. He shuts off all the lights he can find. Knowing Stephen, the man will sleep no matter what the circumstances are, but he doesn’t want the man to have a good look at his face. At least not yet, not now.

The two of them change to their respective clothes – there’s not a lot of clothes between them. Under any other instance, he would find Stephen’s body intoxicating. The man looks as perfect as ever, even if all his studies have made the two of them thinner than before. Now, he just wants the man to sleep as soon as possible, any previous arousal completely gone and replaced by sheer anxiety.

When Stephen rests on the mattress, he sniffs around for a moment. “Smells like tobacco.”

Right, that was a secret that Karl didn’t expect to keep for very long. “Ah, yes. It is a new habit.”

When he lays down beside him, Stephen narrows his eyes. “Just don’t do it around me.”

“I expected you to be more… worried.”

Stephen doesn’t reply. He lays down with his back towards him. Karl stares at the scattered moles across his back until Stephen reaches back for his hand and drapes it over himself. Karl gets the message and settles against him, holding him close. Breathing him in.

His neck smells of expensive cologne instead of grassy fields.

Beneath his hands, Karl feels Stephen’s quickened heartbeat. Ironically enough, Karl feels calmer than the man in his arms, so often it’s the other way around. He knows that Stephen is awake, they both know they’re still conscious.

Maybe, before the sun rises, Karl can show him the truth. His hands drift towards the hat that’s still on his head.

As his fingertips touch the knitted fabric, Stephen gasped out a pair of choked, strangled words.

“Donna’s dead.”

Karl closes his eyes and moves his hands back around Stephen’s hips.

The man is trembling now, his chest completely tense, like he’s holding back something or deathly afraid.

“She drowned on the lake after I told her I didn’t want to go with her. I should’ve gone. I should’ve just said yes.”

“Stephen—”

“She was fifteen, Karl. Fifteen. Doctor’s said she was going to at least live up to her thirties before the pain became too severe and I just cut her life in half. Didn’t even get a chance to cure her.” His words are all said between choked sobs, and they sound so  _ angry. _ Covered in self-loathing. Karl can feel the anger radiating from his body and suddenly understands why his lover is shaking. “

“It wasn’t your fault,” Is all Karl can think of responding with. It clearly doesn’t ease the situation.

“That’s not what the sheriff thought! That’s not what my parents thought! I had to… I had to get her body from the bottom of the lake, had to walk with her all the way back home. She was in there for  _ hours _ before anyone found her, and only I knew where she could’ve been.” Stephen curls his body closer together, clearly trying to keep himself from crying. “I had to tell my parents that I didn’t go with her because  _ I didn’t want to _ . Because I was too fucking lazy and tired to walk to a fucking lake and supervise my little sister for just an hour or two.”

Karl tries to soothe him by stroking his hands, burying his face against the back of Stephen’s neck. He’s silent, no amount of reading or wisdom could tell him how to properly grieve. Any death in his family has been like blessings for him, miracles even. He liked Donna very much, but he has no idea how to grieve or how to comfort Stephen. Had he been able to experience even an inkling of the love they had for each other as siblings, then maybe he would be able to relate, but Karl has been alone his entire life up until now.

Stephen sniffs, sounding exhausted. “So, that’s why I haven’t been talking to you these past few days. That’s why I thought about staying back home instead of trying to forget what happening here in London.”

“Were you not going to tell me?”

“No. I wasn’t.”

Karl has no idea what to make of that.

Not being able to find the proper words of comfort, Karl instead settles for a tighter hug and Stephen eventually crumbles in his arms, all resolve not to cry shattering along with the uncaring, relaxed personae he tried so hard to upkeep. It was good for him to cry, he seemed as if he could use it, or perhaps this was just the first time he allowed himself to cry since Donna died. Karl does not ask, nor does he intend to. Things between them are awkward and distant at the moment, there’s no reason to try to make it worse.

Instead, he lays in silence as Stephen eventually calms down quicker than he expected, most likely forcing himself to do so. The American turns around to face him, kissing him without warning. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend they’re back in the Nebraska, slightly younger and infinitely more naive. He keeps his eyes open until Stephen pulls away and buries his head into Karl’s chest. 

He wishes he could say something helpful. What’s all this love worth if he has no words to say? 

Stephen mumbles something to his skin. Karl lets out a weak hum, asking him to repeat.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Nothing else has to be said, it seems. 

Stephen settles back against him and falls asleep. Karl follows suit shortly after, the sounds of the city continue despite it.

 

\---

 

“When were you going to tell me about these?”

Karl squints as he opens his eyes, rubbing them as the memories of the day before dawn on him. Stephen is with him in London. He’s in his room, in a home of his own... sort of. He’s safe, he’s safe, but his lover’s fingers are tracing the patterns of scars on his face. The one on his cheek, over his brow, on his bottom lower lip... The night is no longer there to hide them. 

He pretends to yawn. “What time is it?”

“Karl--” 

It’s one in the afternoon. He fears he overslept, just for a moment, until he remembers he no longer has the excuse of university to avoid talking. He lays back on the mattress and stares back at Stephen.

“-- is this why you wouldn’t send me pictures of yourself?”

He reaches up to move Stephen’s hand away. “Yes.”

“I... I didn’t really ask what happened to your parents or to you, did I?”

“I told you what happened.”

Stephen sighs. “You left out a few details, I think.”

Karl tries to keep his composure. 

“No more secrets, okay? You don’t have to tell me right now, but I’d like to know.”

“There is not a lot to say... My father got angry with me and smashed a glass of wine to my face. Now he’s dead and my mother is in jail.” Stephen looks even more worried than before. Karl wonders if he should have put it a bit more delicately, but he continues. “I did not want you to see it because I thought...”

His thoughts trail off and Stephen decides to finish it instead. “You thought I would think you’re ugly now? I’m not that fucking shallow.”

“I... yes. I don’t know  _ what _ I thought.”

His boyfriend kisses the scar on his temple and it’s all the reassurance he needs. “I don’t think this is the best thing to say, but they’re kinda sexy.”

“Really? You should’ve told me before I put on that stupid hat yesterday.”

“I like the beanie.”

Karl smiles.

 

\---

 

Over coffee, Stephen mentions one morning that he wants to have a proper tour of the city. It’s all they do for the following days.

Karl makes a list of all the most tourist-esque attractions that he can think off and one by one they manage to scratch off each item like a bucket list. They go to Buckingham palace, and neither Karl nor him are especially impressed. Karl assumed would be surprised by royalty, seeing as Americans don’t exactly have any monarchies leftover in their country, but Stephen has never been impressed by people in places of authority in general. He sees the crown jewels and only jokes about that maybe it would be a better hat for Karl than a beanie. It earns him a playful shove from the other man. 

“Hey, sorry for insulting your people.”

Karl takes a sip of his drink and raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, you’re part of the one percent, babe. Aren’t you still technically a baron?”

“Don’t say that so loudly!” Karl hisses. “Technically, yes, but I don’t really care for that title.”

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t care, you would still be beheaded in a coup.”

“This is not exactly a conversation I imagined having.”

Stephen only laughs as they browse the gift shop, occasionally pointing at all the cheesy t-shirts and betting Karl if he should buy them. The Romanian doesn’t seem particularly interested indulging in his bet, so he lets the “I heart London” t-shirt be for now. He would get it mainly to rub it in Christine’s face, and only then remembers that she’s still angry at him. 

He does, however, buy a cheap polaroid camera that should last him at least twenty photos. He left his better one at home, and Stephen hates taking pictures with his phone. It ruins the moment, and he isn’t like other teenagers. Besides, polaroid pictures just look cooler. 

He aims the camera at Karl and the man immediately covers his face.

“Still camera shy?”

Karl speaks with his head turned to the side. “Why don’t you take pictures of the city instead?”

“This city doesn’t shine as bright as you.”

He wonders if the guy’s blushing, he probably is and hears him cough as he drinks some more water. “Your charms won’t work this time, Stephen Strange.”

“Come on, just one picture. Let me have something to remember this by. I barely have any pictures from last summer.”

“Are you using guilt on me now?”

“Maybe.”

Of course, Karl eventually says yes, Stephen had no doubt in his heart about it, but only on when he says it’s okay.  _ No surprise pictures _ , he says. Stephen obliges and waits for permission while they walk down the street on their way to the London Eye. Karl is complaining about how long the wait line to ride it will be at this hour and time of year, but Stephen is a bit distracted as he catches sight of those royal guards with the big fuzzy hats he always sees in movies. 

“I’m going to take a picture with them.” 

Karl rolls his eyes. “Ugh, leave them alone. Don’t be  _ that  _ obnoxious American tourist.”

“Hey, tourists from all countries try to make them laugh. Besides, you’re assuming I’m not already obnoxious.”

Karl crosses his arm and doesn’t say anything as he walks towards the guard, rolling eyes again in the distance as he takes a selfie with one of them. They don’t move, no matter how much Stephen says he’ll give him a pound if they smile, and eventually he walks back with photographic evidence of his encounter all to annoy his boyfriend. 

“Are you happy now?”

“The look on your face is all the validation I needed.”

They make their way to the huge Ferris wheel, Stephen didn’t expect to be so big no matter how many pictures of it he’d seen before. He feels strangely excited, like a kid at an amusement park, despite the fact they have to wait an hour in line just to get on it. They already bought their tickets in advance, but it seemed like a lot of other couples and families had the same plan as them. They wait amongst the other tourists, a cacophony of different languages surrounding them. Karl, however, looks slightly bored. He wonders if he ever even got to go to carnivals when he was a kid. They pass the time by listening to music, or occasionally asking Karl what the German tourists in front of them are arguing about. Karl refuses to indulge in their private conversation but he can see him sniggering as the woman says something that sounds particularly scathing. Then again, it’s German, and that language always sounds angry. 

When they finally get to ride it, they, unfortunately, have to sit with a family of four other American tourists that were standing behind them. He doesn’t mind too much, it’s not like he expected them to be alone and Karl is too much of a gentleman to demand that they have space all to themselves, but neither of them makes a move that could be seen as anything more than platonic. The ride is more calming than exciting; Stephen rests his chin on Karl’s shoulder as they look out the window to the rest of the city, blanketed by clouds and the barely visible falling sun.

“It looks beautiful from here, doesn’t it?” Karl mentions, low enough for him to hear.

“Have you ever been in the Eye before?”

“No. I’ve done more sightseeing today with you than I have in six months.” Karl turns his head to face him. He glances at the family beside them, probably making sure that they aren’t staring, and kisses his cheek. “This is nicer than I expected, thank you.”

Before their time is up, Stephen fumbles around his backpack for his polaroid camera while Karl is still looking out to the view. “Can I take a picture of this?”

His lense is already pointing at Karl’s face before the man answers. Karl sighs and nods.

The first picture is sweet, if not a bit awkward. Karl looks to the camera with a small, forced smile. The sort he would always do in family pictures. Stephen starts drying off the picture while Karl looks away once more. In an instant, without thinking, he aims the camera back up and takes one more shot. 

In the second, Karl is facing away, but he can see an inkling of a smile on his lips even from his angle. It’s a lot more intimate. He wonders if any picture he takes after this can top it.

“I heard that.”

Stephen looks down sheepishly. “Couldn’t resist such a lovely view.”

They smile at each other, heads closer than what should be considered platonic. Stephen glances at the family beside them and notices as the man on the seat in front of them eyes them with a glare. They pull apart and sit in silence as the ride ends.

It reminds him of his dad, just for a brief moment. He tries to shake away the feeling before the thought haunts him for any longer. Eugene has nothing to do with this and he can’t ruin this trip for him.

As they walk out beside the Thames, all he can think about is Donna. 

Great, is he going to develop a fear of water from this? Is he not going to be able to look at any river or lake without picturing his little sister’s dead body? Stephen closes his eyes and crosses his arms against his chest, suddenly self-conscious and cold, despite the warmth of the summer sun. Karl seems to notice, he’s good at noticing these things, and probably can notices exactly what’s going on by the fact that Stephen keeps looking away from the river.

He says nothing, thankfully, and begins to gingerly move them to the opposite direction, farther away from any body of water. Their goal for the day is done; they’re just walking aimlessly at this point through some park that Stephen doesn’t know the name of. 

He grits his teeth. Karl places his hand over his own, still wrapped around his arm, silently asking if he can take it. Stephen relaxes, only slightly, and allows the touch, knowing that it would just be worse if he says no.

The touch isn’t exactly calming, but it is reassuring. 

“Do you want to get dinner?”

Stephen looks at the ground as he speaks. “Why? So we can talk about my feelings or whatever?”

“No, I’m just hungry.” Karl jokes, a weak smile on his face, but neither of them really laugh. “Stephen, perhaps I’m not the best person to talk about this to, but you should talk to someone.”

“I’m not going to a therapist if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Why not?”

Great. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I think I am asking a perfectly reasonable question.” Karl tightens the grip on his hand to stop him until they’re facing each other. “Stephen, you don’t have to keep all of this in. Keeping this in will just make it worse over time.”

He can’t believe he’s having this discussion in the middle of a park. This was supposed to be a calming day. “That’s rich, coming from you. Aren’t you supposed to be the repressed one out of the two of us? You’re the closeted rich gay kid and I’m the open fucking book, ready for anyone to read me, aren’t I?”

He can see the clench in Karl’s jaw and he fights the urge not to get mad. It’s almost laughable. “This does not need to end in an argument, Stephen. I’m simply trying to help you. This is something you need to talk about. It doesn’t have to be a therapist. It can be anyone. Another friend, a psychology student -- you’re in a medical school, there has to be some of those -- Wong, your parents. Just someone, even if it isn’t me.”

Stephen sees red. Is this what Karl feels like all the time? Just ready to fight and hit something or someone? He can barely breathe, he must look like a psychopath as he grabs Karl by the collar of his shirt and yells in his face. “What the hell is there to talk about?! My sister died and it’s all my fucking fault! By drowning! Not even under my scalpel! What the hell is the point of being a doctor if I can even take care of my family?! All these scholarships are useless, I’m never going to be able to save anyone, now I’m in London with  _ you _ . I don’t even know what I’m doing here! Neither do you!” He laughs. “You think  _ you _ can help me? With all the fucked up  _ shit _ that has happened to you? What do you know about grieving? You didn’t like anyone in your family, you were just waiting for them to die. You’ve never lost anyone important to you, Karl, and you barely even talk to me about things that are important, like your fucking scars. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

He  _ knows _ that he’s saying horrible things. He’s perfectly aware that this will just end with Karl getting angry, or horribly depressed, and that he’ll regret it in the span of a second after each syllable comes out of his mouth, but it feels so fucking  _ good _ to finally let it all out. He just wanted to scream and Karl was the only person nearby, and now he has to pay the price.

Karl’s eyes are red-rimmed. His lips are pursed together, glaring at him. Stephen lets him go, not caring that there are a few people around them pretending not to stare, or walking away as quickly as possible from the scene in front of them. 

“You’re right. You’re right about everything as always. I’ve never lost someone important to me,” Karl looks shocked and scared all at the same time. Stephen both hates it and does nothing to stop it. “-- but at this rate, I think you may be the first.”

He doesn’t stop Karl as he walks away either.

He waits a while before trying to find him. He needs some air, sometime to breath before he faces the man once more, readying himself for all of this to end. He wouldn’t be surprised if Karl broke up with him over this. Truth is, Stephen has been ready to finish this off since before he got on the plane. Since before Donna died. They were a two-month fling --  _ two months _ \-- what the hell are they doing? Why is he still here?

Stephen rests his head on his hand and groans. He’s in love. He’s nineteen years old and he’s stupidly in love with a guy that’s so broken and shattered that he depends on Stephen to rearrange the pieces. There’s no other reason behind that. What has he done to them? What does all this love amount to?

He finds Karl sitting alone on a park bench, not too far from where they were arguing. He’s smoking, and Stephen eyes the ground to find the bud of three other cigarettes beside his shoes. 

Oddly enough, when Karl glances at him, he shakes his head and laughs. “Took you long enough to find me.”

Stephen decides to follow along. “You don’t seem as angry as I expected.”

“Oh, I am angry. I am very,  _ very _ angry at you. I am simply trying to control it with these.” He gestures at his cigarette, held between his fingers in the middle of his fist like it’s flipping him off. 

“Look, I know I can’t say I’m sorry--”

“--Sorry won’t even begin to cut it.”

Stephen gives up and sits beside him, he doesn’t actually know what how he was going to finish that train of thought in the first place. Karl rests his arm on his shoulder, pulling him close. “You are such an  _ asshole _ , Stephen Strange. You are so rude and entitled. Sometimes I wish I could --” Karl crushes the cigarette in his hands. 

“That you could kill me?”

“No. That I could stop being so infatuated with you. I love you, Stephen, and I know people say terrible things when they are grieving --” His heart sinks as the man tries to come of up with excuses for all of this. “-- but... I am just so tired of this.”

“What’s  _ this  _ supposed to be?”

Once again, Karl laughs and looks infinitely more exhausted. Stephen grimaces at the smell of nicotine coming from his hair. “I’m still deciding.”

He sees Karl reach into his pocket for another cigarette. The Romanian leans back against the bench and lights it, smoking away with his eyes closed as Stephen stares in front of him in silence. 

“I thought you didn’t do any kind of drugs.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you just said that I never share anything with you just a few minutes ago.”

Stephen slumps back against the bench along with him, now resting his head on Karl’s shoulder. He takes the cigarette from the man’s fingers and tries it for himself, just to find out what the appeal is. He regrets it immediately and finds himself coughing, gasping for air. Karl pats the small of his back to help him breathe as he laughs beside him. 

As Stephen leaned against a tree, puking at least twice while Karl gave him some water to help nausea go away, he just then realizes how fucked up they are. 

When did he become so terrible?

Stephen stands up again, breathing heavily but finally able to breathe without coughing or tasting ash on his throat. He feels a hand stroke the side of his face.

“Are you alright?” Karl asks, sounding incredibly worried. 

He speaks with a broken voice. “Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t know anymore.” Who knew it would take him a single puff of smoke to have a self-realization like this? Stephen feels like he’s resting the weight of his body on Karl’s hand and ends up with his head on the man’s shoulder as he’s being hugged. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up. I’m sorry. I know this won’t solve anything I said today or before but I’m really sorry.”

Karl kisses him, probably to get him to shut up, but he melts into it either way, not caring anymore that they’re in public. He can barely think about anything other than the man in front of him. Like he’s standing in the middle of a white space and nothing exists but the two of them. Wouldn’t that be ideal? “It’s okay. It’s okay, please don’t cry. We’ve tortured each other enough today.”

Once again, Stephen goes against Karl’s wishes and does the complete opposite.

In hindsight, this could really all boil down to the fact that maybe he shouldn’t have traveled to see his boyfriend a week after his sister died.

Stephen laughs at the thought, still crying, and he must look like a victim of a manic episode. Religious euphoria gone mad. “God, I’m so fucking hungry. I should've just said yes when you asked if I wanted dinner.”

They’re still in the middle of a now empty park as darkness falls over London, yet the city still shines. Stephen still sobbing and covering his eyes, shaking his head and smiling despite everything that’s happened. 

All he hears is Karl, who’s still hugging him tightly. Karl laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs.


	16. epilogue: part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last days of summer. Stephen has to leave soon. Karl doubts his future. 
> 
> Variations on a theme.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so, so sorry for not posting this earlier. i wasn't feeling inspired by this fic for a while and decided to take a break and work on other things, but i the ideas of how to end this chapter kept bugging me. so i finally sat my ass down and wrote this.
> 
> i would like to thank each and every one of you who read, commended and left kudos on this fanfic. never in my life did i think i would have written anything above 30k words and now look at this! a grand total of 140k words. this is absolutely wild. i love this pairing so much, thank you for sharing the love i have for these characters with me, no matter which universe they may be in.
> 
> i had a lot of other endings in mind, some too fanciful, some too sad, and ended up with the one you will read now. i have no idea if this was the proper way to end this fic but it was the idea i had when i originally started it. i hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> as always, comments are appreciated!

They spend the next day in Karl’s room.

They wake up tangled together, mostly unclothed despite the fact that nothing happened between them last night. Stephen was exhausted and collapsed almost immediately. Karl tried to do some reading but his eyes kept darting to his lover’s body that was draped right beside him, snoring softly. All of the rage he had felt from their argument had subsided far quicker than he thought it would. Maybe he was getting used to it, which wasn’t the best case scenario. Most likely it was because he was desperate to _not_ make Stephen into a bad person in his memories, no matter how much his outburst it had hurt him..

Ah well, if he can survive broken glass, he can survive a few words. They both cut as deeply.

Today will be a good day for them. He releases this thought onto the universe and the universe always conspires against him. Karl does not take back the thought and believes it -- deeply -- hoping that someone out here will listen to him this time and possibly even leave them alone.

They have a simple breakfast -- granola and yogurt brought to them by his tenant. They go back to Karl’s bed almost immediately after, with Stephen reading a medical article from his phone while Karl has his arms wrapped around him, thinking about a dozen things at once. Thoughts he’s only toyed with that grow louder with every passing day. He tries to ignore them, for now, promising himself that he will contemplate them later. Karl rests his forehead against Stephen’s upper back and sighs.

“Alright there, big guy?” Stephen asks, unmoving.

“Since when do you call me that?” Karl mumbles back.

“Not sure, was just trying to test it out. I don’t think I like it.” He feels Stephen stretch, some of his joints cracking with every movement. God knows how long they’ve been lying down for the past few hours. It’s hot out, but it’s cloudy, and it’s the perfect temperature to cuddle without having to worry about sweat, unlike in Nebraska. “I almost forgot you’re shorter than me for a second.”

He can practically _see_ the man’s smirk coming from his words. “I prefer your other pet names.”

“Really? Like which one?”

“Love, baby, darling... I hate ‘babe’, thought.”

“Oh good, I’ll be sure to call you _babe_ more often.”

The American is still reading some sort of medical journal or book as Karl raises his body to rest his head on his shoulders instead. Something about lifeguards and cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

Oh, Karl knows why.

He decides it may be best not to say anything until Stephen is finished reading. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and remind him of that fateful, horrible day he had to go through. Stephen seems uncomfortable with the silence, or his peering eyes, and switches from his browser to his music application. He puts on something slow, of course. Old R&B that doesn’t exactly hide the intentions behind the sultry lyrics and the sensual beat. Karl pulls away, just a bit, as he hears a rumble in Stephen’s chest as he chuckles. Even know, he still finds himself catching his breath at how low the man’s voice can be.

“Karl...” Stephen trails off, but the message still lingers in the air. The question is still there, waiting for an answer. Karl finds himself lost for words.

It’s been so long, _so long,_ since he he was able to contemplate this kind of moment. And now Stephen presented himself like a silver platter, his body backing up against his own so Karl can feel his hardening cock press against the fabric of his lover’s ass. He’s doing it on purpose, completely unashamed by how slutty and desperate this may seem to anyone else. But now they’re alone, for once, with the fate of the rest of the day wrapped around their fingers. Stephen has _him_ wrapped around his fingers as well -- this sort of behavior is making it very hard to try to break free.

As his hands begin to raise the fabric covering Stephen’s back, revealing milky pale skin with scattered moles and marks, each one beautiful and kissable, he starts to remember Kae from the bar. The only other person who has touched him since he moved to London. In front of him, Stephen lies completely bare, his larger hands hooked on the fabric of his underwear and lowering it, inch by inch, just to tease him. All for him, Karl touches the smooth skin and pulls him closer, his hands moving across his chest. He’s starving for it; Kae left a disgusting taste in his mouth while every inch of Stephen’s skin feels like an oasis in the middle of the desert.

Stephen turns to face him, face unreadable but his body covered with a pink flush clear intent. He kisses him -- they haven’t kissed much since he arrived, and each time they do it feels electrifying -- until the American is on top of him, sitting on his lap. Karl groans and moves against him, but Stephen doesn’t react and only keeps kissing him, his hands on either side of Karl’s face.

“I want you to fuck me.” Stephen whispers, and doesn’t say anything else for the night.

Karl feels speechless again. He nods, fumbling for the proper necessities that are scattered across the room while Stephen undresses himself completely, lying on the bed and waiting for him. He looks tired, eyes red and slightly puffy. Karl stares at him from across the room. He looks so different now -- more tense, more guarded -- but still beautiful in Karl’s eyes.

Stephen knows he’s staring and smiles, gesturing at him to come back. He still lays there, resting his head on his hand, like a dream come to life.

Topping is harder than Karl expects. He was always on the receiving end back in Nebraska, and while Stephen managed to teach him the basics by just doing it to him, it’s quite different when the roles are inverted. Stephen guides him through it, wincing when he adds a finger far too early and arching his back when he moves it just right. He’d expect Stephen to ramble by now, but the only noises that come from his mouth are because Karl continues to push his buttons, fingering him open and watching Stephen’s cheeks, his chest, and his cock blush red. Karl goes on for longer than he should have -- he can’t help it, Stephen looks gorgeous like this -- until Stephen whines and reaches down to stroke his own cock.

When Karl finally removes his fingers, Stephen turns around once more until his head is on his pillow and his ass is presented for him. Karl has half the mind not to melt right then and there and rushes to put on his condom with trembling hands, and pushes his cock inside him with a shaking breath. Stephen whines once more, backing up against him until he’s buried to the hilt, and Karl swear he hears him say _please_.

They fuck in silence. No music to hide what they’re doing, no fucking on the floor to stop the bed from squeaking -- it’s the first time they’re free to be as loud as they want yet Stephen covers his mouth and bites his lips. When he does make a louder sound, it’s a sob, and Karl decides not to say anything. On his own accord, eventually, Stephen allows himself to moan, and whimper, and tremble, suddenly looking like the Stephen he always pictured in his fantasies. Once more, Karl hears a word escape the American’s lips and it’s _touch me_. Karl does as begged, stroking Stephen in time with his thrusts, until Stephen eventually cums on his sheets, collapsing on the mattress beneath him. Karl finishes inside him soon after with a gasp, throwing the used condom on the nearest bin in his room.

Stephen curls up on the bed beside him, eyes redder and cheeks more stained than they were when they began. Karl kisses them clean.

“I’m sorry about what happened to her.” He begins, trying to say something consoling. “I’m sorry that bad things happen whenever we try to be happy. But we still have time, and we can both learn to move on.”

Stephen’s eyes dart at him. Karl sighs and goes to make himself some tea.

He doesn’t get an answer.

They spend the rest of the day apart, even if they never leave the same house. Stephen to his own devices in their room doing God knows what while Karl scrolls through information through his phone. He’s not sure why he’s looking at this, he already told himself it’s a stupid idea. There is no reason to abandon everything he has worked so hard to get. If he did, his mother would surely laugh at him from hell.

But he doesn’t feel at home in London. He can’t live here anymore. Karl wants to find a home more than anything. He wants to find a place where he feels safe and happy. It’s not here.

It may not be with Stephen, either.

He remembers when his grandfather took him hunting, drunk once more and babbling about the past he missed and the pasts he didn’t. Karl was too young to understand what he was saying and too afraid from being in the woods for so long. He remembers the smell of alcohol in his grandfather’s breath and the cool metal and wood of the rifle that was thrusted into his hands. He missed every shot he tried to take that day, trying desperately to prove he was a man to his grandfather as if a bullet passing through a glass bottle would fix everything. It was the first and only time the man had consoled him, leaning down to meet his height and telling him that everything was going to be okay, that he should never give up.

His thoughts are interrupted as Stephen walks out of his room and towards the kitchen to make himself some food. Wordlessly, the man seems to turn press the buttons on the microwave as if on autopilot, Karl isn’t sure if he even notices that he’s being watched. When he catches a glimpse of the man, his eyes are puffy and red.

Their eyes meet for a brief moment and he almost doesn’t hear Stephen speak.

“What do you want?”

Karl tightens the grip on his phone. “I want to talk to you. We need to talk about things.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You. Us. Where this is going.”

“It’s not going anywhere and you know it. What do you want me to say? You want me to lie and tell you that once I get back to New York I’m gonna call you everyday and never ignore you again? This isn’t a fairy-tale or some sort of romance novel. Maybe it was, maybe it started out that way, but things have changed.”

“I think we can still fix things.”

“And so do I, yet look at us both.”

Stephen waits for an answer but received none -- the tables turned, their roles replaced -- and now the American shoots him a look of shame before going back to their room, closing the door behind him.

 

\---

 

On most days, Karl would be the first to wake up. His phone had an alarm that always went off at nine in the morning, even in the Summer, where Stephen would usually take the time off to sleep the day away and live in the night. But after two weeks of the same routine, Stephen found his own inner clock working at the same time as Karl. So, the day Karl decides to turn off his alarm in place of a few more hours of sleep for the first time, Stephen finds himself completely awake and staring at the ceiling above him. His stomach rumbles -- usually Karl would already be up making breakfast, but the man was still a lightweight, and going out for some drinks last night proved to be too much for his boyfriend.

Stephen rises from the bed without waking up his boyfriend and gets dressed. Something simple -- jeans and a borrowed t-shirt, something that would seem decent enough for any nearby coffee shop he can find. It still boggles him how a straight-A med student like him could be so horrible at cooking any sort of dish that isn’t cereal, but alas. He takes his wallet and phone and heads out the door, but not before pressing a kiss to Karl’s cheek. The man rustles against the sheets, groans, and continues the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He checks his phone for any nearby restaurants that seem interesting. He’s heard good things about English breakfast, and has only been able to eat it once or twice since he arrived -- apart from tea, most of the food Karl and him have eaten since he arrived is either Indian or Thai, stuff he could have never eating back in his town in Nebraska. Actually, the tea is probably not from England, either. When they eat, Stephen likes to talk about all the great food places he’s found with Christine and Wong in New York. He told Karl once he’d like to take him to a few of them. The man responded with a tight smile and a _maybe_.

As he left the door and walked down the stairs, he was too distracted by his phone screen to notice the person in front of him before he bumped into them. Stephen straightened, embarrassed as he noticed it was Karl’s tenant, and helped her pick up her bags. She did not help along, and simply watched him gather different packages of mail he caused her to drop.

“S-Sorry.” When Stephen handed them back to her, he felt an odd mixture of smells coming from the packages. He chuckled, “Fun day?”

She stares back at him, not annoyed but not impressed by his assumption. “It’s not marijuana, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.” A smile starts to curl up on her lips. “They’re other kinds of herbs.”

“I-I wasn’t-... Doesn’t smell like weed, no.” Stephen didn’t understand why he was so nervous around this woman.

Now that he was up close to her, he could actually know what she looked like. Karl had mentioned her a couple of times, and he’d seen her in passing sometimes when they left and got to Karl’s apartment. She was pale, very pale, and covered her head with a yellow head wrap that was covered with different designs. Her clothes was very much “bohemian”, the sort of clothes he would see when he walked around the Village or Soho. She had a loose grey shirt and flare pants with a floral print, topped with a colourful, long colourful robe that hung over her shoulders. She seemed around his mother’s age, maybe older, and had no makeup or jewelry on, and was slightly taller than him.

When she answered, she spoke with an English accent and a soft voice. “How would you know what that smells like?”

“I-I, um...”

“You must be Karl’s boyfriend. Stephen, is it?” She said, before he could embarrass himself any further. “He’s told me about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” He held out a hand for her to shake. She does, her hand just as big as his own, though much softer. “Yeah. Stephen, Stephen Strange. Nice to meet you.”

“Would you like to come inside for a cup of tea?”

He didn’t, not really. He actually wanted to go out and have some time to himself, but something about this woman’s demeanour made him agree. It wasn’t like she was hot or anything, but there was some sort of invisible force pulling him towards her. Stephen just assumed it was because she smelled nice, and free tea was always good. “Sure, I was just about to get some breakfast anyway.”

He held her packages for her as she opened the door, gesturing for him to go in first. As he stepped in, she told him to take off his shoes and leave the packages at her table.

The apartment was... odd, to say the least. Each wall had mismatching wallpaper with different patterns, while some walls were made of wood and others were lined with concrete. The floor was all hardwood, but the occasional panel sounded hollow against his feet while others were not.  There were jars scattered about everywhere, some had odd rocks, others had sand or what looked like dirt, along with the occasional wooden box or small trinkets. Some of them looked like bones -- animal bones, thankfully, but not something you would usually see decorating someone’s house.

Stephen stopped in his tracks. There were either two possibilities: either the lady was a murderer, or some kind of witch. Either way, part of him was regretting entering the house in the first place.

“Leave the books there and come to the kitchen.” He hears the woman say aloud from the other side of the flat. Stephen eyes the rest of the living room for a moment -- there’s a lot of statues of Buddha and other figures he can’t exactly recognize -- then heads toward the kitchen where he finds her preparing tea, just as she said she would.

Stephen gulps, “So, uh --”

“You have questions.” She states, looking at him pointedly.

He nods.

“No, I didn’t invite you here to kill you. And yes, I am a witch.”

The American is still dumbfounded and allows himself to be guided towards the small table in the middle of her kitchen, sitting down with a confused look on his face while the woman places a plate of bread, butter and cookies in front of him. He can’t help but laugh. “A witch? Seriously?”

“It is customary for anyone who visits a witch’s house for the first time to give her a gift. Do you have a gift to give me?”

 _Seriously?_ “Alright, listen lady,” Stephen rolls his eyes. _This_ was why he prefered to hang out with med and STEM students instead of the art and humanities ones. They would always talk about nonsensical shit like this, stuff that isn’t real. He used to believe in it last summer but he’s a grown adult now, he doesn’t need to fall into this sort of trap.”I think I’ll take that tea to-go, actually. No offense, but I don’t personally believe in your... practice.”

“I am not asking you to believe. Just stating some common courtesy.”

Stephen scoffs. “What? Did Karl give you a gift too when he discovered you were a ‘witch’?” He makes sure to show off his air-quotes to her face.

“Yes, he did. He brought back a bottle of wine from his room and comes in for weekly readings.” She answers far too patiently.

“He never told me... Wait, reading what?”

She takes a small bag made of cloth from a table that is covered in candles and different jars, almost looking like an altar of some sort, then places the bag in front of him. “Tarot cards.”

“Tch, I thought you meant palm reading.”

“I do read palms, but it’s not as fun.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Alright, fuck this. I’m not interested in this occult, demonic mumbo jumbo. I’m not going to let you pretend you know who I am.”

“I do not pretend.”

He should just leave -- leave without another word and tell Karl that his landlady is crazy -- but instead he gets close to her, almost nose to nose, scoffing in her face. “Fine, you know me so well? Tell me something about me that Karl didn’t tell you. I assume the two of you just _love_ talking shit about me behind my back, huh?”

“I know that you were born in a small town in Nebraska. I know you have a small family composed of your father, mother and recently deceased sister. You lived in a corn farm that also sells goods from livestock but now you live in New York while you study neuroscience and neurosurgery in Columbia, thinking of going to John Hopkins in the future. You had an ex-girlfriend named Christine.”

“I told _all_ of that to Karl. You’re just repeating things you heard! You know what? I don’t have to sit here any longer and pretend to be nice.” Stephen stood up and started to leave the kitchen. The woman did not move or look away from her tea as she spoke again.

“I know you had thought about getting back together with Christine while you were away from Karl but you didn’t, not out of fear for him finding out but because she was angry. I know you blame yourself for the death of your sister and are thinking about giving up from becoming a doctor all together because of it. I know your parents haven’t spoken to you since her death and you believe they possibly will never speak to you again.” One of her fingertip circles the rim of her tea mug while she leans her head on her free hand, almost looking bored. “I know you had a brother as well who ran away two years ago and you haven’t seen him since. You have no idea where he is, no one does, and you are almost sure he’s dead by now. You blame yourself for it, isn’t that right?”

“ _How_ did you know that?”

She smiles, baring her teeth. “Just things I have seen from looking at you. But what do I know? I am just an odd and intrusive woman who pretends to be psychic, aren’t I?”

Stephen curls his hands into fists, so tightly that he thinks the nails digging into his skin might draw blood. “I haven’t told anyone about that. How the fuck did you know about him?”

“Oh, what’s his name...” She tuts, shaking hrer head slightly. “Vincent? Vernon? Vlad? Ah, yes...”

“Don’t say it.” He cuts her off. “Don’t fucking say his name. Please. Please don’t.”

For a moment, he believed she was going to continue speaking just to mock him. But she has the decency not to utter his brother’s name. A pregnant pause of silence fills the room. Tense, but mostly on his side. The woman seems as calm as ever, finish her tea and helping herself to a pastry as she waits to Stephen to calm down. He wipes his eyes and breathes -- the woman does not help console him but she does not do anything to further his sadness. He almost forgets she’s there until she speaks again, possibly a couple of minutes later. “Now do you believe me?”

Stephen opens his mouth to speak then closes it.

“I apologize for the harshness, I do not usually uncover such deep secrets from my clients in their first session, but skeptics need something raw and tangible in order for them to believe, or else they live the rest of their life in deliberate ignorance.” She pours him another cup of tea. “If you would like, I can help you unravel these feelings. Like a therapy session, only stranger and more intimate. You could also leave, if you wish. I will not pressure you to do either.”

He looks out the kitchen and into the hallway. There door is just a few steps away. He could leave right now and never come back or think about this encounter again. The old Stephen probably would have stayed out of pleasantries, allowed her to read his palm and gone on his merry way without thinking much of it. He stares at his hand.

Stephen takes a seat in front of her once more, feeling kind of dazed. He looks through his pockets and finds a penny, a few scattered pounds, and a coupon to a nearby Thai restaurant. He hands the later to her. “Is this a proper gift for a witch?”

She smiles and nods as she takes the coupon from his hands.

“Now, what would you like me to do?” She asks.

“What do you offer?”

“Palm reading, tea leaves, hypnosis... Most people tend to come for a tarot reading. Very popular these days, especially with people your age.”

He’s heard of that, at least, and it seems like the most believable -- and least intrusive -- option out of the ones mentioned. Stephen cannot help but still retain a tinge of skepticism as he eyes her with some doubt. “Um... I’ll go with a tarot reading. Why not?”

She takes a slightly small cloth bag and opens it, taking out a deck of cards and resting them on the table. They seem bigger than regular playing cards. He sees a hint of the front of a card for half a second, it looks more colorful than regular cards as well.

Her hands move across the table methodically, shuffling the cards in ways he often he'd seen in magic shows -- she's showing off and it's working because the cards are gliding and dancing in her slender hands in ways that leaves him a bit in awe, to be honest. Like a child seeing their grandfather pull a coin from their ear, part of him wants to ask just how she does it. He stays silent and tries to keep his face as bored as possible, he doesn't want to make it seem like she's suddenly changed his views on her practice by shuffling some cards.

"What does the death card mean? I always see that one in movies and TV."

She smiles when he asks that, it's definitely not the first time she's heard the question. "It was not as terrible as it seems. Many people see death as their ending, their stopping point. In the tarot, death symbolizes the end of a cycle. A metamorphosis. Whether that transformation is beautiful or ugly is up to you. Why do you ask, Mister Strange? Do you intend to change anytime soon?"

"I think I already have, before I came here."

Her hands stop and she places a freshly shuffled deck in the middle of the table. "How so?"

"No. No, you don't get to psychoanalyze me like that. You're going to read my cards, remember?"

Her smile is tight this time. "The cards do not tell me everything, Mister Strange. It is a give and take, if you will. I still need information from you if I am to tell you of your fate and help you with your problems."

Stephen places his cup of tea on the table, now empty. He glances at his hands and thinks about Karl. For a moment, he feels completely exposed, the woman's eyes looking past every demeanor and quirk he has tried to put on since the moment he entered her how. Since the moment he arrived in London.

"I don't feel like myself anymore," He begins. "Since I left Karl last summer and started studying again, I feel like I'm turning into... an adult. Like I'm getting boring and more serious -- I mean, I'm supposed to be serious when I'm a doctor, but it's different. I know it's part of growing up, but even since my little sister died... I've just been confused and angry all the time. And it's making me rethink some things."

"My parents don't have anyone left. It's just me and them. I need to be the best fucking doctor I can be, I need to make up for the fact that I couldn't save my sister and I think... I think I'm allowing myself to get too distracted in order to do that properly."

"By Karl?" She asks.

He nods, and watches the same tight smile that never left her lips. It's the first time he actually admits it -- without yelling, actually considering his words. "We only dated for two months. I don't know where this can lead."

"Do you love him?" She asks.

"Yes." He answers, a bit too quickly.

There's a pregnant pause in the air before anyone speaks again, like the entire world has fallen silent. Then he hears the sound of the city, cars honking and dogs barking outside, and he's thrusted back into the reality of the situation.

He taps the top of the tarot deck. "So, are we doing this?"

"Yes. Now, there are many, many ways to do this and many things I can uncover from the cards. I place them on the table into spreads with cards that you choose -- without looking at the front, of course, whatever calls out to you -- and organize them accordingly. There are some spreads with five cards, there are spreads with up to ten, but the simplest spreads can contain just three cards and still help us with uncover the deepest parts of ourselves that we do not understand. Or the parts we do not accept. What would you like to ask?”

Stephen squirms in his seat as he thinks. There are so many things he’d like to ask, so many questions wandering through his mind that are proving to be more damaging than helpful. He could ask about his sister. He could ask what his mother and father think of him now.

He could ask about Victor and whether or not he’s still okay. He doubts it, every part of his body doubts it but he just wants to believe. Believe in something.

He laughs to himself as he thinks for longer than what would be polite. Not once does the woman in front of him seem annoyed, she drinks the rest of her tea and continues to shuffle her cards, watching him intently.

“Why not the simplest, uh, spread? Just three cards, right? It is my first time, after all.” Stephen says.

She nods. “As you wish. Do you have a question in mind? There are many things you can uncover with just three cards, whether it is within yourself or concerning the people around you. Is there anything you want to uncover about yourself, Stephen? Something deep inside that you’re hiding?”

He gulps and backs into his chair, just a bit. He’s pretty sure she noticed.

“A situation, perhaps, that you need help with? A a difficult decision that you’re still undecided on? Or is there something concerning your relationship with the people around you? Your family, your friends, the people you love... Anything is possible.”

Part of him wonders if she’s egging him on to talk about Karl. It’s likely, they seem to speak fondly of each other. It’s naturally to get protective of someone like Karl. Stephen gives in. Somehow, it’s easier to talk about his relationship with Karl than it is to speak about his family. A year ago, it would have been the other way around. But things have changed and so has he. “How often do you have to do readings about someone and their boyfriend or girlfriend?”

“Oh please, it’s my main source of revenue.” She says with a smile.

“Then I’ll do one of those, why not?” He answers with a nonchalant voice that is clearly forced. “Wait, I don’t have to pay you for this... do I?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment and continues to shuffle her cards for a brief bout of quiet. “When it comes to relationships, there are different questions you can ask the cards. You may know the possible future that awaits you and your partner. That way, you can be ready and cautious. You could also ask what the present has to give you and Karl. Knowing the present can help shape your future. Nothing is set in stone, not even what I read nor what the cards say.”

That helps relieve some stress, at least some. “So they don’t tell the future?”

“Depends on what you believe. For you, the cards will only give you possibilities and hints that are up for you to discover on your own. Our subconscious works in funny ways, we find connections in everything, even in a pretty looking deck of cards.”

He has no idea if she’s serious or not.

“Alright. Um...” Stephen breathes in. “I want to know the present of my relationship with Karl, just like you said. I want to know how he feels about me and whether or not it can... last.”

“Do you think it will last?”

Stephen stops himself before he can shake his head. “I want it to, I really do. But there’s something... either it’s from him or from me.” He chuckles. “I mean, I am asking, after all.”

She thinks for a moment, bringing a finger to his lip as she does. Stephen stares at the cards.

“What about this -- it’s very simple and straightforward -- a three card spread that I do for more readings like these.” While she speaks, she spreads the entire deck across the table with one swift motion of her hand, each card reversed and equally peeking out from the former. “You pick three cards that call out when I say the following three words. Do not think for too long, do not consider the cards too much. Go with your heart and choose the one that shouts in your head. Once picked, do not turn it around, we will do that together, but pull them closer to you in the order chosen.”

It seems straightforward enough. He nods and looks at the cards, trying to distract himself from his worries by counting them. He counts twenty-two of them before the woman speaks again.

“You’re too tense, Stephen. Relax, and just pick a card.”

He hovers his hand over the deck and tries to relax. Really, he does. He’s supposed to be calm -- the entire apartment smells of incense, candles and comfort -- but his hand still shakes. Stephen sets it in his lap instead, choosing to just take the cards quickly, without much thought, just as the woman said.

He’s been impulsive his entire life up until now. Being told to allow himself not to be careful feels odd but slightly freeing.

“For the first card, pick one that calls out when you think of yourself.”

His eyes immediately dart towards the left, he takes the second-to-last card and sets it in front of him.

“For the second, pick one that reminds you of Karl. Not your relationship with him, but with him as a person.”

He settles for one near the middle and orders it accordingly.

“Finally, pick a card that represents your relationship.”

Stephen eyes dart across the deck, no card catching his eye, until he feels a tinge of judgment coming from the woman’s face and picks the card that’s right in the middle, setting it as the last card in his spread quickly.

The “witch” picks up the rest of the deck, diligently organizing it into a properly stacked deck, and places it to the side, moving the three remaining cards to the middle of the table.

“Do we... turn all at once or one by one?” Stephen asks.

“Whatever makes you more comfortable.”

“Can we do them one by one? That way you can explain them in order, I guess.”

She nods once more and turns the first card around, the one that represents him, and furrows her eyebrows in thought at the sight of it.

The first thing Stephen notices about the card is a tall, imposing grey building illustrated right at the middle. A yellow bolt of lightning has struck the top of it and set it aflame, orange and yellow drawings of fire fill the window of the building and fall onto a deep black sky that’s covered in grey clouds. Two people fall from the building, possibly a man and a woman, looking terrified. Under the drawing, bold uppercase letters give the card a title: THE TOWER.

It doesn’t seem good in the slightest.

“What does it mean?”

The woman taps her fingers on the table. “Where do I start... The tarot is divided into two categories, the major arcana and the minor arcana. The minor arcana represents day to day changes, simple emotions, occurrences and ideas that can occur to anyone. The major arcana, however, represent life-changing moments. Events in our history that can shake us to our core and change everything we think of ourselves. This,” She taps the card with a single finger, “is from the major arcana. I doubt having one of the sort calms your nerves, especially when it represent yourself, with such a grim illustration.”

Stephen was growing impatient. “Okay, but what does it _mean_?”

“A tower has foundations it is built upon that allows it to stand tall and powerful, above anything else. If those foundation were to break and collapse, so will the rest of the tower. This card symbolizes a crack in _your_ foundations, a life shattering event that shakes us to our very core. Changes The Tower represent are the sort we have no control over, the kind that are inevitable and that we cannot avoid or fix. It is a harsh card with an overpowering energy.”

“So it’s kind of like the Death card? A rebirth?”

“No. Death suggests a slow but necessary metamorphosis. The Tower is sudden and _terrifying_ , and sometimes not necessary in the slightest. The changes this card speaks of are often traumatic and unfair. We all suffer trauma and grow from it, sometimes we learn and become better people, but it is not often that one ever truly deserves it.” She purses her lips. The entire time she’d been speaking, she had been looking at the ceiling or at the card, as if she was quite literally _reading_ it, but her blue eyes meet his own with an unreadable expression. “It is also the only card that represents a physical, literal death. I believe we both know which of your recent experiences it refers to.”

Of course Donna was going to be brought into this. There is no day where he doesn’t think of her, where he doesn’t blame himself and wish that he couldn’t done something more. Stephen is well aware that the woman in front of him knows exactly what he feels every day, how the realization grows realer with each passing hour since her death. He stares at the card for a while and imagines that one of the figures that fall has red hair.

“No, it isn’t fair. People keep telling me that I’ll grow from it and get better someday. I know it’s true, and I’m going to be a surgeon, I have to get used to people dying. But... it wasn’t fair.” His eyes glance to his hands. “It wasn’t fair to her.”

“As annoying as those words can be, they hold truth. You will build walls around you because of her death, thick and cold as ice. This will be inevitable -- and this is not a premonition, this happens to many -- but it is not permanent. Remember to build doors or windows, enough for the people you hold most dear to look through. It will take time, it never stops aching, but slowly, you will thaw.”

For a brief moment he feels his chest ache. Not the ache that he’s felt so often in the past weeks but another sort of ache. An ache that comes with relief. Like exhaling after holding in a breath for far too long. Stephen grits his teeth and nods, silently, clearly desperate to step away from this card and move to the next.

But the woman offers him a few more unwanted words before she offers him the mercy of ignoring how he’s beginning to sink to his seat and pick at his nails: “The card represents changes that are not in our control. What happened to your sister is terrible, but putting the blame on yourself will solve nothing.”

She adjusts herself in her seat and Stephen does the same, wiping his eyes quickly, when he thinks she isn’t looking, and focuses his attention to the next card. Karl’s card. He hopes it isn’t as grim as his own.

 

He’s the one to turn the card around this time. He stares at it in expected confusion, it definitely doesn’t look as dark as his, but  when he looks at the woman, she looks at it with a warm smile.

“How poetic... Your cards are almost polar opposites.” She takes it in her hands and inspects it further than hands it for Stephen to see.

In this card, the one supposed to represent Karl, he sees a image much softer than the last. Whereas the last card felt dark and ominous, this one is lighter, bluer, slightly sad. A man rows a small wooden boat while standing, like the men who row boats in Venice that he’s seen in the movies, and a figure in front of him who covers their face with a hood sits in the middle of boat, looking down, surrounded by swords that stand around them, stabbed into the boat. The Roman numeral for the number six is drawn on the top. The Six of Swords, he assumed. Stephen takes the card in his hands and moves it closer to himself, looking at it with a frown.

“What do you see?”

He scoffs and placed it back in the middle of the table. “I don’t know, you’re the one in charge of reading these.”

“No need for attitude, not in my home. You know Karl better than I do, help me read his card.” The woman crosses her arms in front of him with a pointed look.

“ _Fine._ ” He says, gritting his teeth. He’s not sure why he’s so against reading _this_ card specifically. Maybe because it’s Karl’s card and, deep down, he doesn’t want any answer that will accept him. Or maybe it’s because his skepticism on... whatever the hell is happening to him at the moment continues to reign over his worry over his relationship. “It doesn’t feel as deadly and scary as my card one -- which is funny, since I expected him to have a darker card.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause he’s... gone through a lot of stuff with his family. Doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s a broody loner, that’s just the way he is.” Stephen said.

“Or, that’s the way he _was_. That’s the Karl you see in your eyes that maybe isn’t there anymore. This is a card about moving on after a hardship. While your card symbolizes a sudden, painful change, Karl’s card symbolises a necessary transition, a rite of passage.”

Stephen chewed on the side of his cheek, keeping himself silent.

“And it may seem that you are projecting yourself onto Karl.”

It’s hard to stay silent.

“Neither you nor I know about the extent of Karl’s trauma and abuse, I doubt he is the sort to ever truly open up about it, but it seems that he may be moving on in some way. The experiences were terrible, I’m sure, but this is a card of growth, and looks like he is growing from them and becoming a different person, or becoming the person he was always destined to be, had he not had so many challenges along the way. When growing, you let go of things that push you back, or make you feel as though you cannot be yourself to the fullest. And, if this spread is supposed to indicate your relationship, we can only wonder what exactly that might entail.”

“So you’re saying he’s going to break up with me in order to get better?” Asks Stephen.

“No, but I implied it.” The woman smiles, thought he cannot tell what sort of smile it’s supposed to be. “But that all depends on the relationship, do you believe you’re holding Karl back in someway?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“Then that is for me to read and for you to find out on your own.”

Stephen sighs. “Are there any other meaning to that card that don’t involve breaking up?”

“Well, it can also be taken quite literally and it could indicate traveling across waters, or overseas. Is Karl going anywhere anytime soon?”

“Not that I know of...” He says.

She takes the card from the table and sets it aside along with his previous card, and Stephen can’t help but dread what the next one awaits. He really didn’t expect them to be this on the nose. Maybe she’s just fucking with him and the cards don’t actually mean anything that’s she’s saying, but there’s no _real_ reason why she would need to like to him. If anything, the lady just wants to seem him give into her premonitions and get frustrated -- and it’s working well. “Then that gives you another question for you to ask.”

Obviously seeing the anger swell on his face -- it wasn’t like he was trying to hide anyway -- she sighs and tries to sound more comforting. “Anyone who was told that their partner was getting better from past trauma would be delighted. What troubles you?”

“I’m... I’m not sure.” Stephen answers, gripping his hands underneath the table.

“Are you?”

“...We’re both different from how we were back last Summer, and we only dated for two months. I think he’ll grow out of me and we’ll just drift apart.”

“Why do you assume _he_ is the one that will move on? That seems awfully presumptuous. Or are you projecting your feelings onto Karl again?” She asks, leaning in closer to him.

Stephen thinks about his answer and speas again, carefully. “I... I think Karl can be a bit... obsessive. And I think I can get bored of things very easily. Maybe if we were older...” He trails off. “I don’t know... Sorry.”

He doesn’t stutter on any of the words in his response, but they each come out slowly, as if they’re scared to escape from his lips. He waits for the woman in front of him to laugh, or judge him somehow, but the judgement doesn’t come, she simply stares at him with a stoic face, nods, and gives him the mercy of continuing with the reading, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to pour his heart out any longer.

“Shall we continue to the last card?”

Stephen nods in return and turns the card around himself this time. It’s upside down for some reason, but the reader’s long, bony hands stop him before he can turn it around to its proper direction. “No, it’s supposed to be upside down. The meanings change when it does so.”

“Really? Like, they’re just the opposite or something?”

“Not necessarily. It can simply mean that something is blocking its original energy, or its energy is lessened.” She replies. Stephen doesn’t the roll in his eyes when she says the word ‘energy’.

“What kind of energy?” He asks with some obvious amusement in his voice.

“Do you want to know the meaning of the card or would you like to leave? I have no obligation to do this for you, Mister Strange. Keep in mind I decided not to charge you for my services out of the kindness of my heart.”

That shuts him up.

The last card, the one that supposedly represents their relationship, is odd, to say the least. He shifts it upright to see the original pictures. It depicts two kids, a girl and a boy, one looking older than the other. There’s a castle in the background and, beside the boy, is a small stone that holds a cup adorned with white flowers. The young boy is handing the younger girl the same cup with the bouquet, and four more golden cups sit on the bottom of the card, all adorned with leaves and white flowers, with six in total. It’s cute, childish even. Not at all what he expected.

“The six of cups.” Stephen says after a moment of silently studying the card, setting it back to its original position.

“Very good. What do you think it means?”

“Um..” He scratches his head. “Generosity? I have to help and give people more things? If this is a card about my relationship, then maybe I’m not giving Karl enough gifts or attention. Or he needs help with something in secret but won’t admit to telling me he needs help. This is a card about helping others, isn’t it?”

The woman smiles. “Interesting...”

“Did I get it right?”

“No, not entirely. I just always enjoy seeing people guess meanings, it gives me a view into how they thing.”

Stephen lets go of the cards and slumps in his chair. He was so sure he had gotten it right. “Fine, what does this one mean?”

“This card symbolizes innocence, youth, and the nostalgia we all feel as we remember it,” She begins, speaking with a collected and practiced voice that probably comes from years of reading the same cards over and over again. “The card is a happy one, full of joy and sweetness. It sometimes indicates that we should try to act more carefree and allow ourselves to be innocent and happy. Reversed, these energies can be too powerful, and it might mean that we are being too naive, too innocent and blind to our surroundings. We cloud ourselves in the illusion of nostalgia and refuse to grow. One must not dwell on the past, we should only hope for the future. The past may be looked upon as a guide, but it should not be something we cling to. What do you think that indicates for your relationship?”

Stephen pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yep. Yeah, I get it.”

“What exactly do you get?”

“The two of us are dwelling on a perfect past where we met each other and were alone and happy, and now that we’re in the real world, miles apart, we aren’t. I get it. I got it.” Stephen _knows_ he sounds rude and ungrateful, but he speaks anyway. No one in the history of the world has enjoyed being told what they did wrong and how they fucked up, and he isn’t going to start changing the tide now. It’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid, how these cards just managed to reveal everything he didn’t want to accept. And this lady just sits in front of him without saying a word, probably pleased to watch as he crumbles. “I don’t want it to end but I have no idea how this can continue.”

The air around them feels heavy. Stephen looks at the clock on the wall and realizes that he’s only been here for half an hour even though it’s felt like hours, like an eternity of being read like an open book by a woman he’d just met. This is why he doesn’t want to go to a therapist, or talk to anyone about Donna, not even to Karl. Having yourself laid bare for someone to see is terrifying. He’s never going to do this again.

“Stephen, before you leave, I must tell you something important.” The woman picks up her cards and places them back in their deck, shuffling just as methodically as she was when she first placed them on the table. He watches, feeling more tired than he was when he still hadn’t had breakfast. “The future and possibilities these cards present to you are not set in stone, they are just that: possibilities. You can change your future when it comes to things like this. Karl loves you, it’s clear you love him as well. You can change this destiny yet.”

He feels like he should say something more, something smart, but he gives her a simply, quick thank you as he stands up and begins to walk away. The woman says one more thing as he almost reaches the door.

“But remember, Karl can also change his destiny. Yours and his may not be funny entwined.” She calls out. “Talk to him, truthfully. You will regret it if you don’t.”

He opens the door and closes it behind him, the sounds of the city growing louder now that he’s closer to the entrance of the building. All he wanted was to get some coffee by himself.

Now that he thinks of it, he never even got the woman’s name.

 

\---

 

It’s still morning, just nearing noon. Stephen feels as if he followed a white rabbit and fell down a hole into another universe, or dimension, and was suddenly pushed back into reality. It’s been five minutes since he left the woman’s house and he somehow still finds himself at the door to Karl’s apartment, staring at it as if it’ll open on its own if he looks at it long enough.

It does, in a way. Karl opens the door, fully dressed and cleaned up, with a surprised expression like he didn’t expect to see Stephen there. Karl places his hands on the doorframe and gives him an awkward smile. “Oh, I was just going out to get lunch. I thought you were off eating already so I was going to go on my own.” Stephen does not miss the slight accusatory tone in his words.

Stephen doesn’t answer and continues staring, like Karl’s still just a wooden door and he’ll open up if he just looks hard enough. It only manages to make the Romanian more nervous. “Is everything alright?”

It isn’t, not in the slightest. Stephen kisses him anyway, it’s a better alternative to talking.

Karl stumbles back into the apartment with the force of the kiss, his hands leaving the doorframe and resting them on his shoulders instead. If Karl is still confused, he manages to hide it and pulls Stephen closer to him for a deeper kiss, for something more. Any intent of going out for lunch has been thrown out the window at this point. How long has it been since they kissed like this? They just had sex a few days ago, they’ve been having sex since Stephen arrived, but never like this. Never with Karl grabbing at his shirt, melting beneath him, just like back in the farm, except any noises he makes are drowned out by the sounds of the city through the open windows.

He kisses the side of Karl’s face and jaw, causing the man to laugh. “Stephen, what has gotten into you?”

Stephen left him a soft, pink hickey on his neck before he spoke, running his thumb over the skin afterwards. “Just wanted to touch you. We haven’t touched each other enough since I came here. I haven’t treated you like you’re my boyfriend.”

Karl’s laughter seemed to subside, and Stephen was sure that he had fucked up somehow. Said the wrong thing _again_ , but Karl gave him a soft smile and rested his forehead against his own. “By all means, touch me as much as you’d like. I can skip lunch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Karl pauses. “You said it yourself, you have been here for two weeks and we’ve barely even kissed. Why wouldn’t I?”

Stephen _had_ to kiss him.

The two of them ended up on the sofa, hands on each other’s skin that reminded Stephen at all the time he sneaked off during a party for a kiss. Desperate, uncaring, as if they were drunk and didn’t have a care in the world again. Karl ends up straddling his lap, his lips ghosting at his skin and he’s smiling, just a bit, as if he really _doesn’t_ have a care in the world. He looks so carefree and in love with him. He looks lovely and Stephen feels awful -- there are so many feelings at once.

Stephen ignores them and kisses him anyway, hands groping at any part of Karl’s body he can find to make sure he’s real, that he isn’t dreaming and Karl has still somehow not left him alone in a distant city. Instead, Karl gasps against him, lost in love.

They fuck -- that isn’t a surprise. Actually, Karl ends up fucking him again, which is kind of a surprise considering how enraptured the Romanian was by being on the receiving end. But Stephen ends up surprising himself with how much he likes it, how it allows Karl to feel in charge of him and simply give him what he thinks Stephen deserves, which is far more than the truth, still tender and kind even during a morning fuck in the middle of his living room. What should be messy and hasty ends up being clean and dragged on, mainly for Karl’s amusement. He doesn’t cry this time, no one does. It’s wonderful.

Which is why Stephen feels even more like shit when they get dressed once more, Karl looking at him bashfully as if he didn’t just have his cock inside of the other man, saying something that he doesn’t listen to.

Magic or no magic, cards or no cards, Stephen knew that they were going to drift apart eventually. One session of good sex doesn’t mean anything concrete -- give them ten minutes and they could end up at each other’s throats once again, arguing about a future they’re not sure about and shouldn’t be sure about in the first place. It’s... odd to be so in love and know that it’s going to end soon. He only has a few more days in London, neither of them have mentioned it, though, but unless Stephen continues this attitude where he talks about nothing and mentions his frustrations only in outbursts, nothing will change. He will go back to America with a kiss to remember Karl by and they will forget to speak to each other. Eventually, Karl will make friends. Eventually, Stephen will be so busy with his residency that he’ll actually have an excuse not to think of Karl for days on end. They will drift apart into a memory of summer romance like the sort they have in movies. Or Karl will try to get him to come back to London once more, asking to see him again, and the cycle will start once more.

He gets a bit of a shove from Karl. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, just zoned out a bit.”

“Oh.” Karl smiles. “I still could use some coffee. Do you want to come with me?”

He ends up saying yes and the pair walks around the city, looking for a specific coffee shop that Karl seems to like. The walk is silent, at least it begins that way, before Stephen pulls out his phone and hands Karl a headphone so they can share, like old times. Karl takes it, giving him a smile that he wished he could capture in a photograph, and they listen to the same playlist that Stephen would blare out on his phone as they drove next to cornfields back in Nebraska. Except this time the sounds of the city seem to drown it out, so Stephen plays it as loud as possible.

They continue to walk after they have their coffee and decided to go on a more scenic route and head to the Westminster Bridge. It’s, unsurprisingly, full of tourists and citizens walking where they need to go or stopping to take pictures of the Big Ben, or the big buildings that Stephen doesn’t know what they are for. They stop around the middle of the bridge, leaning against the railing and drinking their coffee to the music. It’s awfully calming and cinematic, in a way, though Stephen wishes the day wouldn’t look so bleak and grey. He read that it wouldn’t rain today, but the clouds make it seem like it will at any second. Not exactly the mood he was going for.

“You know,” He says, trying to break the silence. “I never got the appeal of the Big Ben. It’s just a big clock.”

“The biggest one.”

“I don’t think so, I think there are bigger clocks. It’s just not that exciting. I would say this city in general is not that exciting either but it’s not like we’ve done much.”

“I wouldn’t know, I barely leave my house as it is.” Karl takes a sip of his latte. “I thought you were going to ask me to go on a pub crawl or something of the sort. Maybe even go clubbing or so some local famous hospital.”

“We still have time.”

“We have three days.”

Stephen seems startled a back. “Wait, seriously? I only have three days left? I thought I had more.”

“No, just three. Well, four, if you count today.” He sees Karl play with his fingers, scratching his thumb against his index finger. He wants to smoke. “...We can still do all of those things, if you want to.”

He steps closer to the other man until their shoulders touch. Karl looks at him and smiles before looking back down at the dark green water of the Thames. He wonders if he’s thinking about jumping -- he wonders why that thought even crossed his mind

“No,” He says. “I’m happy just being like this with you. That’s what I came here for after all, wasn’t it?”

The answer is slightly scathing, but Karl says it in such a nonchalant voice that it sounds like a regular answer. “You came here to prove that you were still in love with me.”

“Well, have I?”

“I don’t think so. Have you?”

“I think we’re still in love. I’m trying really hard to make it feel like love.”

They fall silent once more, holding on to the coffee cups even though they’re empty and there’s a trashcan at the end of the bridge but neither of them want to seem rude and walk away during an awkward silence just to come back to an even more awkward silence, or not come back at all. So they continue to look at the river with their cups on hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Stephen asks.

“I would but I don’t want to ruin the view.”

He can’t help but laugh at that. “What view? Everything here is grey and colorless? Except this bridge, but it’s an ugly shade of green!”

Beside him, Karl laughs, gathering the attention of some onlookers to their direction. “You’re right, it is ugly.”

“Even the sky is ugly, but hey, check out our big fucking clock.” He gestures at the Big Ben, doing the classic pose where someone pretends to hold it up, and Karl laughs even harder beside him.

“You know all of that was just an act to get you all giggly so we could talk, right?”

“I know, it’s working, you bastard.” Karl is still laughing, the sound soft and sweet to his ears, managing to drown out all the sounds of the city with them. They finally decided to make their way back to Karl’s apartment, walking with more laughter as Stephen continues to loudly announce his dislike of London, deliberately acting like a small town kid who’s afraid of all the skyscrapers and people. It’s not too hard of an act to do, it was exactly how he felt when he first went to New York. Karl acts along, exaggerating his Romanian accent until they’re both acting like scared tourists. They get odd looks here and there, but most of the city doesn’t seem to mind, and it’s so simple to pretend they are all alone as the sun sets and the city turns bright with fake light, illuminating cobblestone streets that turn to asphalt once again.

Their laughing dies down and they realize they’re still holding their coffee cups.

“You don’t actually like living here, do you?” He asks, ready to talk. Actually talk. Karl doesn’t seem entirely ready but he answers anyway.

“...No. No I don’t.”

The man is radiating anxiousness like a damn heater. He steps closer and reaches a hand over Karl’s back pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes that we was trying to hide or save for later. He takes one out and places it against Karl’s lips. The man takes it, already looking visibly calmer.

“Where’s your lighter?”

“In my other pocket.”

Stephen takes it with a squeeze at his ass for good measure. He flicks the lighter open and lights Karl’s cigarette, the only light between them apart from the streetlamps and the moon.

“Are you going to stay here when I leave?”

Karl takes a long drag of his cigarette and makes sure to blow away from Stephen’s face. He smells it anyway but appreciates the gesture enough. It smells disgusting, he knows it’s terrible, but after living in the city, he can’t say he’s annoyed by the smell anymore. “I’m not sure... I was going to talk to you about that yesterday but... you know.”

“Is it overseas, by any chance?”

“Yes but not... not to New York.”

“Where to?”

“South America. Or Kathmandu.”

He laughs at the familiar inside joke but Karl does not laugh along with him. He’s serious, he’s actually serious. “Why?”

“Maybe not... necessarily Kathmandu but I can’t stay in Europe anymore. I’ve seen enough of it to last a lifetime. I want something new, something different.” They’re still walking as they speak, the apartment still a decent walk away but it really feels like they have all the time in the world.

“I’m not even sure if I want to finish Uni anymore. History is interesting, so is literature but I want to do more. I’m not sure yet. I want to... I want to figure it out for myself. You already have your path figured out.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do. There is no way you’re not going to become a doctor, Stephen, you said it yourself, you’ve known that for your entire life. I don’t know what the future holds for me.”

They walk in silence once more. Karl finishes is cigarette and throws the butt away in a nearby trash can. Stephen hums a song he doesn’t remember the name to, looking at the sky and still tasting a tinge of coffee on his tongue.

“I hope it’s good.”

“So do I.”

Karl takes his hand. Not in the way that can still be subtle, no -- Karl interlaces his fingers with his own and holds it tightly, a warmth forming on their skin that reminds him this is the only love he’s ever known. And it’s just going to end. It’s going to end soon and they both know it. The air of finality comes unbidden but unsurprisingly as they reach Karl’s house. Stephen needs to pack his things. Karl needs to work out some things with his university. The night is no longer theirs -- it sucks them back into the real world and the city feels loud again.

 

\---

 

It’s the last day.

Karl has forced himself not to smoke anything today -- it’s special, it’s important. It’s been a day they’ve been expecting for ages and it’s arrived, the future arriving gently into the present, into a day that is far more lovely and calm that it has any right to be. He’s itching for a smoke and, really, it seems that it’s time to start investing in nicotine patches.

Despite this, Karl is not the most anxious person in this flat, for once.

Stephen has been anxious since the morning, legs shaking and clearing his throat every two seconds in a way that was more concerning than annoying, as if he had to say something. He didn’t, obviously, and all their conversations over dinner devolved to light chatter about Stephen’s family and how they were holding up, along with Karl describing the handful of classmates he’s actually spoken to. It’s nice, it manages to clear the air a bit and they continue this line of conversation from the moment they rise to their fancy dinner at a restaurant Karl had reserved a table for ages ago, back he he had sent a ticket to Stephen in a manic breakdown. Neither of them really wanted to go anymore, but it seem rude not to. They had to acknowledge Stephen’s departure somehow. So they ate and drank fine wine, they joked about cheering to an ending relationship then drank their glasses until they were empty.

But they don’t talk about anything important.

Thankfully, they made sure not to drink themselves silly. The pair had agreed beforehand that it would be a bad idea to get drunk tonight of all nights, especially when Stephen’s flight leaves at the break of dawn. So they make their way home, each one calculating how many hours they have left to spend like this. Karl is greeted at his door by the sight of Stephen’s belongings. He had helped the man with folding his clothes, since apparently Stephen still doesn’t know how to properly do so, in a calming moment of domesticity that Karl would miss. He knew he would miss it and yet he was letting it go so quickly, without a fight. They are leading such different lives -- always had and always will -- the fact that they were drifting apart seemed natural. Expected, even.

If only it didn’t have to happen _tonight._ Stephen had been on edge the entire day, looking like he was going to explode at any moment in rage or cry in utter despair. Karl had no idea how to console him in a way that wouldn’t be too intimate. He was pretty sure they had both decided not to have sex tonight as well -- too much of a liability, too many emotions they were desperately trying to hide would rise to the surface. No, they would have a quiet night talking. Like adults. Or at least learn to.

Stephen immediately made his way to the living room while Karl went to get them some water. Every atom in his body was begging for a cigarette but he promised himself to go cold turkey. At least until Stephen left -- when he does he will allow himself to indulge in anything he damn pleases. He will no longer have anyone in his life that will tell him what to do. The lady downstairs is merely his tenant. Karl has no real friends. Once Stephen leaves, he will truly be free. When he moved to London he felt as free as a bird who was released from its cage only to realize it is still stuck inside someone’s home. Maybe things will change when he goes to Nepal.

But for now, he’ll always have the memory of London. He’ll always have the memory of Stephen. And he has a couple of more hours to build the last few remaining memories.

He hears music come from the living room. A familiar tune that suddenly brought him back to a vivid memory of cornfields and sunshine. He turns to see Stephen playing a _Bowie_ song from his phone, dancing alone in the living room as he waits for Karl, smiling, just like the young man he fell in love with a year ago. His clothes is different, his hair is shorter, and the smile looks fake and forced, he’s trying so hard to make this night bearable for the two of them. And still, he dances to the same song they fell in love two and smiles.

Karl brings him a glass of water but Stephen sets it aside on the table beside them and takes his hands instead so he can dance along with him. Without asking, of course, Karl isn’t really in the mood to dance but if it makes the man happy and calmer, so be it. He takes his hand and dances alongside him until the song changes to _Entre Nous_ by Rush. Not exactly a song to dance to, it’s mostly electric guitar and the sort of loud rock music that Stephen would listen to alone or while driving, so the dancing turns into something more awkward until it’s not so much as dancing as it is gently swaying their hips in the middle of his living room.

 _I think it's time for us to recognize_ __  
_The differences we sometimes fear to show_ __  
_Just between us_ __  
_I think it's time for us to realize_ __  
_The spaces in between_   
Leave room for you and I to grow

Ugh. “Turn that off. Or change it.” Karl says, finally moving away and taking a large gulp of water. “Something quieter, please.”

He does at least change it into something softer. He turns off his phone and changes it to a local radio station. It’s the classical music one but a make speaks through about a new opera nearby or something equally pretentious. Karl sighs and crosses his arms while Stephen returns to stand in front of him once more, mimicking his pose. He’s not sure if the man is mocking him or if he’s simply nervous. Possibly the two.

“So...” Stephen begins, desperate to fill the tense silence. “Did you get your ticket to Kathmandu?”

“No, not yet. I’m thinking about starting next year before I make a final decision... Before I do anything too foolish.”

“We’ve already been pretty stupid so far. And what you want to do isn’t stupid.”

The corner of Karl’s lips move but he forces down a smile. “There’s a difference between foolishness and stupidity.”

“Yeah, one word is more haughty than the other.” Stephen replies with the shit-eating grin he missed so much. He can’t help but smile back.

“What are you going to do when you return to New York?”

“I’m starting my residency soon. I’m excited for that, I get to actually do shit. It’s seems just as stressful as it is in TV but nowhere nearly as dramatic, from what I can tell.” Stephen explains, looking down at his shoes instead of at his face.

“Just tell me you will not have sex with anyone inside a hospital storage room.”

“Doubt it. That only ever happens in movies.” Stephen smirks. “Though, Christine and I had a bet...” His voice trails off as Karl’s face turns sour at the mere mention of the woman. It’s unfair and petty, he hasn’t even met the girl, but he does it anyway. “Nevermind.”

Stephen looks as if he’s given up again. He’s ready to throw in the towel and go to their room to sleep through the last few remaining hours he has left in London. Karl stops him before he even _thinks_ of locking himself inside a room and think about his dead sister. He does not want Stephen to leave like that. He will not cultivate those memories. “We need to talk.”

“We’ve discussed everything we could. There’s nothing left to say.” Stephen says as a matter-a-fact.

“Is there? Really? We have never once actually discussed why this is ending. We are allowing it to end as if this was just a measly Summer fling. It wasn’t, you know it wasn’t. It was something more and it changed my entire life in ways I cannot even begin to describe. And yet, for better or for worse, it’s just ending. I would have gone to hell and back for you, Stephen. You knew what my parents were like, that would have been easy. But I do not know what to do with us drifting apart. I don’t think you do either.” Karl took a deep breath to regain himself. He will not cry. Not tonight. “I will not let it end in some sort of ellipsis, with a epilogue that might or might not happen. I want finality, I want a sentence that ends in a period. This night might already be ruined but at least we still have each other for just a bit more,” He stands beside the window and points at the moon. “And you will not leave this living room until we resolve this properly, even if we’re still yelling as the sunlight hits this window.”

Stephen seems far more taken aback than Karl thought he would be. He definitely wasn’t expecting any sort of outburst and any word that escapes Karl’s mouth had woken him up entirely. “Karl, can I be honest?”

“I have been begging you to be honest since last Summer.”

“I think we both knew this wasn’t going to last, right? It was just a Summer romance that ended up being more and we were too scared to let go of it. I fell in love with you, I really did, but we’ve always been from two entirely different worlds. We have a lot of shit on our plate right now. I think we tried, I really think we did. But there’s nothing else we can do.”

Karl didn’t realize until now that Stephen had stood beside him as he talked and had wrapped his arms around his hips. It felt comforting as much as he felt completely entrapped. “Is there really nothing else we can do?”

“Do you _want_ to keep trying? Wanna come to New York next Summer after I don’t text you for a month or two and have this happen all over again?” Stephen said.

Karl snorted. “If that happens we can go through this cycle again but with better weather.”

“I joked about marrying you once, back in Nebraska. Remember that?”

Karl did. It almost made him puke out his heart. Such things should never be said to an eighteen year old, starstruck boy. He nods.

“Now _that_ was foolish.”

The Romanian laughs again. “We would’ve never gotten out of the engagement because we would have never agreed on anything about the wedding. We would have never called it off because we wanted it so desperate to work.”

“What cake flavor would you have wanted?” Stephen asked.

“Vanilla.”

“Ugh, see? That there would have caused me to lose my shit. I want wedding pies instead of wedding cakes.”

“Only if you agree to get married at a church.”

“No way. Outdoor venue or bust.”

Karl shakes his head. “We barely know anything about each other. You don’t even know my favorite color, I bet.”

“Oh, come on. Of course I do, it’s black. What’s mine?”

“My favorite color is green, actually. Your favorite color is dark blue.”

He hears Stephen mutter _shit_ beside him. Karl raises an eyebrow in an _i-told-you-so_ expression that Stephen simply shrugs at, proving their point.

“I wanted to be with you forever. I really thought we could’ve be like this always. Maybe not happy, maybe not perfect, but together. Through thick and thin. Through everything. I wanted you to see me become a real doctor. I wanted my dad look at us and be proud of me, y’know?” Stephen rests his head against the glass. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. Maybe things would have been different if I did.”

Stephen sighed, defeated. Karl places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “No use crying over spoiled milk.”

“It’s _spilled_ milk. And that phrase is used for making a big fuss over dumb issues. I think this is an important one.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I thought it was more comforting...” Karl replies, embarrassed.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. All of this is going to end soon.” He gestures at the city in surrounding them.  “We are going to end. Everyone around us will die. The sun will explode and consume the Earth. Nothing lasts forever anyways.” At the sight of the odd look Karl gives him, he stutters. “I don’t mean that in a bad way! It doesn’t have to be bad, it just makes everything else all the more special. But it all goes by so fast.”

Karl had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, Stephen doesn’t press on that nihilist train of thought any longer.

Their eyes move away from each other and face the moon instead, their bodies leaning against the window and illuminated only by the reflecting light.

Karl starts the conversation this time, words as quiet as he can possibly muster them. “It’s going to be hard to say goodbye...”

Stephen notices his eyes are watering -- he hates it, he told himself he wasn’t going to cry tonight at all. It isn’t fair to him or to Stephen. Thankfully, Stephen doesn’t comment on it and simply wipes any wayward tears away from his cheek.

“It doesn’t have to be a goodbye. We can still talk as friends.”

Karl clears his throat. “No. It’s best we don’t talk for a while. We need to move on this time. _Truly_ move on. We can talk again someday but I would need... time.”

Stephen doesn’t outright respond to that, just gives a short nod and thinks for a moment. Or stares out into space, he isn’t sure how to tell the difference.

Karl yawns beside him. He thinks about moving to the sofa for a moment before Stephen pulls him into a tight hug, both for his own comfort and so Karl can rest his head on his shoulder. It’s just as warm and sweet as he remembers. He allows himself to savor the feeling for one last time, a sweet memory built and to be treasured forever, even if it’s completely silent. Maybe after so much arguing and discussion, they deserve a quiet moment. Just once.

There’s nothing left to say, nothing left to discuss, but it’s clock is just about to strike midnight and they still have about four or five hours left of each other’s existence. They sit in the sofa together with Stephen’s head on Karl’s lap, his hand running over Stephen’s cheeks and arms to remind him that he’s still there. Stephen rises his head to meet his own and they kiss. Part of it reminds him of their first kiss, the one they shared back in Nebraska on top of Stephen’s car, lips ghosting just millimeters away from each other and kissing with far too much tongue and teeth. But there are no groping hands and his heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to burst out of his chest. It is not the love he felt last year or even last week, the sort of love that was going to kill him, that he would have died for. No, nowhere near as dramatic. It’s the sort of love that feels fleetingly comfortable, like a marked passage in a treasured, old book you don’t plan on reading again but cannot bear to give away. Stephen brings his face to cup at his face, pulling away to look at him and kisses him again, an unreadable expression on his face that he can only hope isn’t sad.

They kiss with a bit of passion and no sense of time, forcing them to pull apart and look at the clock above them to make sure they hadn’t missed a plane. The time is getting closer, Stephen should start calling a cab soon, but they can’t seem to move.

“Did you regret this?” Stephen asks. “Did you regret meeting me?”

Karl speaks to the fabric of his shirt. “Of course not. You saved my life. I needed this. No matter how badly this ended, I am happy we met and I am happy for it. I needed you so much.” He pauses. “Did you?’

“No. No, I don’t. I will never forget you.” Gently, Stephen nudges Karl by his cheek so they can look at each other properly. Karl sniffs and wipes his eyes again. “I’m glad I met you.”

“We will move on to better things. I think we both deserve a good future.” Karl says.

“Hey, you did say we were a moment, after all.”

Karl nods, smiling slightly at the memory, but doesn’t answer, not wanting to press the matter on any further. Stephen starts putting on his shoes and double checking his things -- his clothes, his passport, his wallet -- while Karl sits on the sofa while every memory they shared together comes tumbling down over him like an avalanche. This will ruin him for days, he just knows it, but it’s for their best. It has to be.

Every phrase and hollow promise that runs through his mind would be futile. He thinks of every word he’d learned in every tongue he knew how to speak, but they all combine into the same promises they have told each other just said more desperately, with a different level of fervor. Karl feels like an actor trying to read his lines with the lights are too dim to see his page. Variations on a theme.

Still, he thinks of one thing. One more promise. He told himself that he would not allow this to end with an ellipsis but ends are more terrifying than possibilities. He wants something to hold on to. He hoped Stephen wants it too and doesn’t let go.

Stephen stands in front of him with a backpack slung over his shoulder and his phone on one hand after calling for a ride to the airport. He reaches a hand out for him.

Karl takes it and wishes he wouldn’t have to let go.

“It’ll arrive in five minutes.”

He only has five minutes to speak. Five minutes to salvage what he can.

“I think we met at the wrong time in our lives.” He blurts out, cheeks burning and heart beating from his chest. If he knew any better, he would think he was suddenly transported back to cornfields and plains. “Maybe if we had been older, everything would have been different.”

“Karl...”

“No, please listen to me. We should’ve met when we were adults. When you’re already a doctor and I’m... whatever it is I will be. Don’t you think so?”

Stephen sighs. “There’s no way we could’ve known that. What’s done is done and we can’t change it, alright?”

At the sight of Karl crumbling in front of him, Stephen speaks again. “We can try again, but not any time soon. I can hit you up in Kathmandu and we can give it another shot. Let’s give ourselves time to heal. But who knows? Maybe... Maybe in another life.”

“But I need you in _this_ life.”

He hears the buzz of a notification on from Stephen’s phone. His ride is here, possibly just a block away, but they have no time left. Karl tightens his jaw and looks down, embarrassed that he might have ruined everything once again.

He feels a pair of lips land on his forehead for a quick, chaste kiss and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to watch Stephen leave.

“I have a very good feeling we will see each other again. You know my name, you know where you can find me, and vice versa. If what you’re saying is true, then we will get a second chance. Another moment.” Stephen moves away. Karl didn't notice until now that Stephen had been whispering into his ear.

“Good luck, Karl.”

Stephen walks out the door back to the rest of his life. Karl stands in the middle of the living room. He stays there for a very long time, hours after Stephen had left, yet the memory and shape of him remains, remains, remains...

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is a twitter moment](https://twitter.com/i/moments/842070329254129674) filled with all the art i've done of this au so far (contains contextless spoilers for scenes in further chapters)
> 
> [Here is a playlist](https://playmoss.com/en/stephenstrange/playlist/we-are-a-moment) I made for the fic.
> 
> [Here's a moodboard](http://weheartit.com/albaaca/collections/123376856-fic-building-bridges?page=2&before=273779368) that I did while I needed inspiration. It has some pretty pictures.


End file.
